Side Effects
by Bits And Pieces
Summary: The Germans develop a new drug that produces some very adverse side effects. What happens when a frustrated Major Hochstetter decides to slip the new drug to Hogan?
1. Desperate Measures by a Desperate Major

A/N: The drug used in this story is completely fictional; although its effects are very loosely based on the effects caused by PCP. (That's what gave me the idea for the story.) I want to thank Deana for encouraging me to post this; I was a little hesitant. As always, if you decide to read it, I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters. I just like to write stories about them.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Sergeant Kinchloe sat at the table down in the tunnel, monitoring the radio, anxiously waiting for his teammates – Sergeant Carter, Corporal Newkirk, and Corporal LeBeau – to get back. The three men had left several hours ago; on a mission to plant explosives along the railroad tracks that ran close by Stalag 13. They'd received word that a train was scheduled to pass through the area, and it was carrying airplane parts. Their job, naturally, was to stop it.

Kinch sighed and tapped his pencil on the table, wishing he could have gone with them instead of being stuck in the tunnel, waiting and worrying. But the colonel had wanted him to monitor the radio, as usual – and besides, tonight's mission was a three-man job. Still, it was the kind of mission that he could have easily gone on; his skin color not being an issue this time. He sighed again; then placed the pencil tip on the paper next to his hand, and absently started doodling.

Just then the trapdoor to the barracks opened, and Colonel Hogan climbed down. "Any word, Kinch?" he asked as he walked over to his radioman.

"No, sir," Kinch answered, sliding his headphones down and letting them rest around his neck, "It's been pretty quiet."

Hogan glanced toward the tunnel that led to the tree stump entrance. "The fellas should be back any minute," he murmured; then looked at Kinch. "Well, let me know if you hear anything."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied. He reached up to put his headphones back on, when he heard a noise coming from the tunnel that Hogan had been gazing down a moment ago.

Hogan heard it, too, and quietly breathed a sigh of relief as he saw first LeBeau, then Carter, and finally Newkirk come into view. They were talking excitedly amongst themselves, and when they reached the main tunnel, they grinned broadly at Hogan and Kinch.

"So, I take it everything went well," Hogan said, looking at them amusedly.

"Oh, yes, sir!" Carter replied, his eyes wide with excitement, "You should have seen it, boy! That train went – "

Carter started making explosion noises and throwing his hands up in the air. Hogan let him carry on for a few seconds; then held up his hand. "I get the picture, Carter," he said, allowing a small smile to form on his face.

"You must 'ave 'eard it, Colonel," Newkirk said, "It went up only ten minutes ago."

Hogan nodded. "Yeah, I heard it. I was in my quarters." Then he grinned. "The dogs started barking like crazy. I think poor Schultz is still out there, trying to calm them down!"

The men all chuckled at that. Then Hogan said, "All right, why don't you get changed, and go on up to the barracks. You too, Kinch," he added, swiveling his head to look at the radioman, "I think we could all use some sleep."

"Yes, sir." Newkirk's reply was promptly echoed by Carter.

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau responded.

"Oh, and fellas…" Hogan called out as the three of them started walking toward the changing area. They stopped and, when they turned their heads to look back at him, he smiled and said, "Good job."

The men nodded; then went over to where their uniforms were waiting for them and began to change; all three of them inwardly beaming from the praise.

* * *

Major Hochstetter was in a foul mood this morning. He'd barely arrived at his office, when he received a phone call from his superior that a train had been blown up the previous night in the vicinity of Stalag 13 – sabotaged, no doubt – and his superior was demanding that he find out who was behind it. He knew by the tone that his superior expected results; judging by the strong hint of a cold place that he, Hochstetter, would be visiting soon if he didn't get to the bottom of it.

Hochstetter sat at his desk and stewed. "I_ know_ it was you, Hogan!" he grumbled aloud, "And I'm going to prove it this time!" He continued to sit there, a frown permanently etched on his face. _But, how?_ Oh, he knew what would happen. He would go to Stalag 13 to confront his nemesis; knowing he was right, knowing that Hogan was guilty, and yet, somehow, Hogan would manage to have an alibi, like he always did. There had to be something; something he could do, some way of either trapping Hogan into a confession, or finding irrefutable proof that the American colonel had been behind the sabotage in the area all along.

He picked up a stack of papers that had been left on his desk, and began pouring through them absently, while continuing to dwell on his current – and ongoing – problem. Something suddenly caught his eye, and he dropped the other papers; focusing on the one in his hand. He read through it several times; then a smile formed on his face and he reached for the phone.

"Put me through to General Burkhalter," Hochstetter said to his secretary. He waited as the connection was made, and was soon greeted by the General's voice.

"_This is General Burkhalter."_

"General, this is Major Hochstetter. I was wondering if I could set up a meeting with you this afternoon?"

"_What is this about, Major?"_

Hochstetter could hear the impatience in Burkhalter's voice. "General, there was another act of sabotage last night near Stalag 13 – "

"_Yes, I know about that, Major." _

"Sir, I believe Hogan is behind it – "

"_You always believe Colonel Hogan is behind it! Get to the point, Major!" _

_Maybe if you would stop interrupting me!_ Hochstetter gritted his teeth, trying to keep his temper in check. "General, one of our scientists has developed a new drug that is supposed to, ah, persuade men to reveal secret information. I would like to use it on Hogan; I know I can get him to confess."

"_Major, you know how I feel about my prisoners being drugged."_

"That is why I want to set up a meeting with you and the scientist, Herr General. I'm sure if you see its effectiveness, you'll be willing to let me try it on Hogan."

There was a pause. _"All right, Major, I'm willing to meet with you and this scientist. I was planning to visit Colonel Klink later this evening, anyway. But it will have to be at 1800 hours."_

"That would be fine, Herr General." Hochstetter smiled as he hung up the phone. _I'm going to get you, Hogan; one way or another!_

_

* * *

_

At precisely 6:00 PM that evening, Burkhalter's car pulled up to the Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg. The General got out of the car and entered the building, where he was greeted by a very enthusiastic Hochstetter.

"Herr General, I'm glad you could make it," Hochstetter said, as pleasantly as possible.

"Yes, yes," Burkhalter grunted. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

"Of course, General," Hochstetter replied, "Right this way." He gestured down the hall, and fell into step with Burkhalter as they walked down the hallway.

Hochstetter guided Burkhalter to the second last door on the right. He opened the door and stood aside to let the General enter first. Then he followed him inside and shut the door.

The man inside the room immediately stood up. He was a tall, thin fellow with a receding hairline and round, wire-rimmed glasses on his face, and he was wearing a white lab coat. He smiled as Burkhalter entered, greeting him warmly. "Herr General, what a pleasant surprise! We don't get many high-ranking visitors here."

Burkhalter glanced around the cluttered lab, and muttered with an undertone of sarcasm, "I can't imagine why not."

"Herr General, this is Heinrich Zimmer," Hochstetter introduced him. "He's one of the scientists who developed the drug."

"Very well, Herr Zimmer," Burkhalter said as he took a seat on one of the empty chairs near the wall, "Why don't you tell me about this drug you've developed."

"Well, sir," Zimmer began nervously, "We're still in the testing phase, but it looks promising so far."

"I thought you were having great success with it," Hochstetter remarked as he took a seat next to Burkhalter, "That is, according to the report I received."

"Well, you see," Zimmer replied, a slight tinge of red appearing on his cheeks, "The reports that we send out are usually a bit more, um, optimistic than what the results are showing."

"So, what _can_ you tell us about this drug, Herr Zimmer?" Burkhalter asked curtly.

Zimmer took a seat opposite the two officers. "We're calling it XN-5 for now. That's the experimental designation." He glanced at the impatient faces in front of him, and hurriedly continued. "When administered to the subject, his initial reaction is to appear drunk; especially when the drug is mixed with a little alcohol."

"Go on," Burkhalter said.

Zimmer cleared his throat. "Well, then the subject experiences a strange sensation, and in most cases, suddenly becomes violent and paranoid."

"That's not what the report says," Hochstetter contradicted him. "It states that the subject becomes susceptible to suggestion."

"Ah, yes, the report does say that," Zimmer responded, tugging at his collar and looking even more uncomfortable, "Well, we, ah, got a little ahead of ourselves. The drug needs a lot more testing before it can be used as a reliable method of retrieving information. As it stands now, the subject usually becomes delusional, and thinks everyone is trying to kill him. It's led to some unfortunate injuries and deaths, as you can imagine."

Burkhalter nodded. "Yes, I can imagine," he said. Then he stood up and threw a glance at Hochstetter, indicating it was time to go. He turned his attention back to the scientist and stated, "Thank you for the information, Herr Zimmer. I hope you will be able to perfect the drug in the near future."

"What?" Hochstetter exclaimed, jumping to his feet, "You mean you're not going to let me use it on Hogan?"

"You heard Zimmer," Burkhalter replied tersely, "The drug is not ready."

"But, Herr General – "

"I said no!" Burkhalter shouted. Then he turned to Zimmer. "I hope you will inform me when the drug is working properly."

"Of course, Herr General! You will be the first to know!" Zimmer responded enthusiastically.

Hochstetter stood there, fuming. He was convinced the drug would work, despite what Zimmer said. While Burkhalter was talking to the scientist, he glanced around the room and spotted a few packets on a nearby table, each containing a small amount of a white, powdery substance. The label on the packets read, 'XN-5'. He glanced back at the two men and, when he saw they weren't looking, he grabbed one of the packets and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he waited for Burkhalter to exit the room, and followed after him.

As they were walking down the hall, Hochstetter stated determinedly, "I am still going to question Hogan about the train that was destroyed last night, Herr General. I am convinced he is behind it."

"Of course, Major," Burkhalter replied, "I understand; that's your job. I am afraid I don't share your conviction, however."

When they got outside, Burkhalter paused and turned to Hochstetter. "Tell you what, Major. I am on my way to visit Klink right now. Why don't you join me? Then you can ask Colonel Hogan your questions."

Hochstetter smiled. "That would be fine, Herr General."

The two men got into the back seat of Burkhalter's car, and the driver headed for Stalag 13.

* * *

Colonel Hogan was sitting at the long table in the common area of the barracks, playing gin with Newkirk, who was seated adjacent to him. LeBeau was cleaning up the dishes from the dinner they'd finished eating a short while ago, and Kinch was below in the tunnel, monitoring the radio. Carter had gone below as well; to tidy up his lab, and start getting explosives ready for the next time they'd need them.

Sergeant Olsen stood at the door, acting as lookout. As he was peering out into the compound, he saw a car drive in through the gate, approach Klink's office, and stop in front of it. The fact that it was a general's car didn't go unnoticed by him, and he immediately turned his head to look at Hogan and called out, "Klink's got a visitor – I think it's General Burkhalter, sir."

Newkirk frowned. "Burkhalter? Blimey, what's he doin' 'ere so late?"

Olsen saw Burkhalter exit the back seat of the car, and when the other occupant got out, he exclaimed, a little more nervously this time, "And Major Hochstetter's with him! Looks like they're headed for Klink's office."

Hogan raised his eyebrow. "Hochstetter? What does he want?"

"It might have something to do with that train we blew up last night, Colonel," LeBeau reminded him as he hung up the pot he'd just washed.

"Oh, yeah, that," Hogan muttered. He stood up from the table and eyed his men. "Well, there's one way to find out for sure," he announced; then headed for his quarters.

Newkirk and LeBeau followed him. By the time LeBeau closed the door, Hogan had the coffeepot receiver set up on his desk. Almost immediately they heard Klink's door open, and the Kommandant's voice.

"_General Burkhalter! What a pleasant surprise! I wasn't expecting you this late."_

"_I know, Klink. I'm making an unscheduled visit. I have a few administrative questions to discuss with you."_

LeBeau smirked. "He probably found out how much Klink has been paying for champagne, lately."

"_Yes, of course, Herr General! Oh, and I see Major Hochstetter's with you."_

"_Yes, I am, Klink! And I have some questions for Colonel Hogan, regarding an act of sabotage that occurred near here last night."_

"You were right, Louis," Newkirk said, glancing at the Frenchman.

"_Certainly, Major Hochstetter! I'll have Sergeant Schultz go and get Colonel Hogan, and bring him here at once!" _

"That's my cue," Hogan said, getting up from his chair by the desk and grabbing his crush cap from the top bunk, where he'd tossed it earlier.

"_Now, wait a minute, Major, there's no reason we can't be comfortable. Klink, we can use your living quarters; perhaps even have some refreshment."_

"_I was just going to suggest that, Herr General!"_

"I'm sure he was." LeBeau rolled his eyes.

"Colonel, we won't be able to listen in, if you're in Klink's quarters," Newkirk said, looking at him with concern. "What if he gives you trouble?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," Hogan answered reassuringly, "He's got nothing on us." He paused, appearing to think it over. "But, just in case," he said, looking at the Frenchman, "LeBeau, why don't you go down to the tunnel and let Kinch and Carter know what's going on. Then stay down there for a little while; if something happens, Newkirk can let you know to alert the other barracks."

"What about me, sir?" Newkirk asked.

Hogan put his hand on the Englishman's shoulder. "Newkirk, why don't you set up a card game with some of the guys out in the barracks? I want to keep things looking as normal as possible."

Newkirk still looked worried, but he nodded slightly and replied, "Yes, sir."

Hogan smiled at him and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Trust me; everything's going to be fine."

Newkirk gave him a half-grin. "Well, since it's comin' from you, sir, I guess I can believe that."

Hogan chuckled. He dropped his hand and headed for the door to his quarters. As he grabbed the knob, he glanced back at his men. "Besides, with Burkhalter here, we'll probably just end up sitting around, drinking, anyway." He flashed them a big grin, and left the room.

Just as Hogan entered the main barracks, the outside door flew open and Schultz hurried in. He spotted the man he'd been sent to retrieve, and said loudly, "Colonel Hogan, you have to come with me right away. Colonel Klink wants to see you."

"Don't you mean Major Hochstetter?" Hogan asked.

A flash of worry appeared in Schultz's eyes, and quickly disappeared. "The Kommandant sent me to get you, Colonel Hogan. He didn't say why, and I didn't ask."

"That's all right, Schultz," Hogan replied calmly. He walked up and clapped the big sergeant on the shoulder. "Let's go." Then he headed out the door, followed closely by Schultz.

When they got to Klink's quarters, the Kommandant instructed Schultz to stand guard outside the door. As soon as Schultz left, Hogan looked at Klink innocently. "You wanted to see me, Kommandant?"

"Yes, I did, Hogan. Come in," Klink said, motioning for Hogan to follow him over to where Burkhalter and Hochstetter were already seated; each of them with a glass in hand.

"Colonel Hogan," Burkhalter said pleasantly, "Please, join us." He took a big sip of his drink, which appeared to be brandy, and gestured to the chair opposite of the couch where he was sitting.

"Thank you, General," Hogan replied, nodding politely and taking his seat. "And Major Hochstetter, what a pleasant surprise!" he added as he looked over at him.

"Yes, a very pleasant surprise," Hochstetter echoed, gritting his teeth slightly.

"Klink, I'm sure Colonel Hogan could use a drink," Burkhalter said, looking up at the Kommandant.

"No, allow me," Hochstetter offered, setting his drink down on the side table next to him and rising to his feet. "What would you like, Hogan?" he asked.

"Brandy's fine," Hogan replied, "Oh, on the rocks, if you don't mind."

Hochstetter nodded. The other three men looked at him curiously, but didn't comment. The Gestapo Major walked over to the table where the alcohol was kept, and grabbed a glass and a bottle of brandy. As he began to pour the brandy into the glass, he asked absently, "Do you have any ice, Klink?"

"Oh, yes, of course, Herr Major!" Klink replied; then hurried to the kitchen.

"So, tell me, Hogan, how have things been for you lately at Stalag 13?" Burkhalter asked while Klink scurried away.

"Oh, you know, General… Pretty boring, actually, but we make do."

Hochstetter quietly pulled the small packet of XN-5 from his pocket, and, when he was sure no one was looking, opened it and quickly poured the contents into the glass of brandy. Then he stuffed the now-empty packet back into his pocket and waited for Klink to return with the ice.

"So, it sounds like you spend most of your time playing cards," Burkhalter was saying when Klink finally reappeared with a full ice bucket. "That must get rather tedious, for a Colonel."

Hogan shrugged. "Like I said, General, we make do."

Hochstetter plunked a few ice cubes in the glass; then returned to join the conversation. He handed the glass to Hogan and sat down in his chair. "So, tell me, Hogan," he said, "Where were you last night?"

Hogan took a sip of his drink and looked at Hochstetter indifferently. "Same as every night, Major, in my quarters."

Hochstetter scrutinized him closely. "There was a train that blew up last night, Hogan. I don't suppose you know anything about that."

"Is that what that was?" Hogan asked curiously, "I _thought_ I heard something last night." He stared at Hochstetter, nonchalantly taking another drink.

As the men sat and worked on their drinks, Hochstetter continued to grill Hogan, but the colonel evaded all of his questions. Hogan finished his drink fairly quickly, and ended up having another. Less than an hour into the visit, he started to act a bit funny, and began to slur his words.

"You know what your problem is?" Hogan asked Hochstetter, seemingly out of the blue, "You talk too much. I bet if you kept your mouth shut, you'd have a lot more friends."

Burkhalter chuckled. "He's right, Major. You would be wise to limit what you say."

"And you!" Hogan turned his attention to Burkhalter, "You would be wise to limit what you eat!"

Burkhalter's expression darkened. "You had better be very careful what you say next, Hogan."

"Oh, come on, sir!" Hogan responded loudly, "You're big enough to be your own country! I'm surprised Hitler hasn't sent you to Russia…you could conquer them all by yourself!"

Burkhalter slammed his drink down on the table and stood up. "That's enough, Hogan!" he shouted. Then he glanced over at Hochstetter and announced, "Let's go, Major, we're leaving."

"But, General, I still have some questions…"

"I don't care!" Burkhalter headed for the door, followed by a reluctant Hochstetter. The general turned to Klink and said, "The next time I visit, remind me not to invite Colonel Hogan; he obviously can't hold his liquor!" Then he stomped out of Klink's quarters and made a beeline for his car.

Hochstetter followed, wishing he could stay; he wanted to see what the drug would do, and if he could get any information out of Hogan. But he knew he couldn't; how would he explain it to General Burkhalter? _Bah! I can't believe this is happening! _He thought furiously; and then an idea struck him, and he inwardly smiled. _Maybe I can't stay tonight, but I can come back tomorrow. _He smiled as he got into Burkhalter's car; already planning to return first thing in the morning – to see what damage the drug had caused.


	2. Keeping Friends Close and Enemies Closer

**Chapter 2**

Klink was furious. He'd never seen Hogan behave this way, and he could only hope at this point that he wasn't going to be held responsible for it. The last place he wanted to end up was the Russian Front! After Burkhalter and Hochstetter left, he opened the door and, catching Schultz's eye, waved him into the room. "Schultz, take Colonel Hogan back to his barracks," he ordered.

Hogan had gotten to his feet, and was standing there, albeit a bit unsteadily, with a big smirk on his face. "Yeah, Schultzie, take me back to the barracks," he drawled, raising his arm and wrapping it around the big sergeant's shoulders.

Schultz looked at him with surprise. "Colonel Hogan, are you drunk?" he asked.

Hogan let out a guffaw. "Well, if I am," he replied, winking at the sergeant, "I hope I stay this way for a while… Know what I mean, Schultzie?"

Schultz glanced quizzically at Klink. The German Colonel frowned back. "Just get him back to the barracks… Now!" Klink hollered.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!" Schultz wrapped his arm around Hogan's waist and led him away.

Halfway across the compound, Hogan began to laugh. "What's so funny?" Schultz asked, still supporting the obviously inebriated man.

Hogan almost tripped; causing him to lean more heavily on Schultz. "I was just thinking what ol' Klink would say if he knew what was really going on around here!"

"Shhh, Colonel Hogan," Schultz pleaded quietly, "You have to be quiet! You don't want anyone to find out about your monkey business, do you?"

Hogan looked at Schultz and, in a moment of lucidity, replied, "You're right, Schultz. Mum's the word." Then he brought his hand up and mimed turning a key over his mouth to lock it.

When they finally reached Barracks two, Schultz breathed a sigh of relief. He opened the door and guided Hogan through it; then looked around desperately for one of the colonel's men. He spotted Newkirk at the same moment as Hogan; the Englishman had just gotten up from the table, where a rousing game of cards was going on, and turned around to look in their direction.

"Newkirk!" Hogan happily exclaimed as the corporal approached, "Just the man I want to see!"

Newkirk looked at him curiously. "I am, sir?" he asked; then his curiosity quickly turned to confusion as Hogan let go of Schultz and latched onto him.

"Yes!" Hogan replied, slinging his arm around Newkirk's shoulders, "I need to discust…disguss…discuss something with you." He leaned in and smiled broadly in Newkirk's face. "Let's go to my office, okay?"

Understanding washed over Newkirk as he smelled the alcohol on Hogan's breath. "Yes, sir, let's go to your office," he repeated, returning Hogan's smile. As he began to lead Hogan to his quarters, he glanced at the German guard and said, "Thanks, Schultzie; I'll take it from 'ere."

Schultz nodded and, as he headed out of the barracks, muttered, "Good luck!"

Newkirk chuckled; then assisted Hogan to his quarters. Just before entering, he glanced back at the table and called over, "Best deal me out, mates!" After he got Hogan inside, he closed the door and guided the colonel over to the lower bunk. "'Ere, sir, why don't you 'ave a seat?" he said as he lowered Hogan to a sitting position.

"Yeah, thanks, Newkirk," Hogan muttered as he plopped down onto the thin mattress. He sat there for a few moments; glancing around the room groggily; then he brought his hands to his head and let out a groan. "Oh, my head…something doesn't feel right," he mumbled.

Newkirk smirked. "You 'ad too much to drink, Colonel. Must've frustrated ol' Hochstetter, too; the way he and Burkhalter went stormin' out of 'ere. Least that's 'ow Olsen tells it; he's the one, what saw 'em leave."

Hogan groaned again and rubbed his temples. He squeezed his eyes shut and muttered, "Hochstetter… Olsen… What are you talking about?" He dropped his hands and opened his eyes, looking at Newkirk with a very odd expression.

Newkirk eyed him sympathetically. "Why don't I fetch Louis, sir, and 'ave 'im make you a nice, strong pot o' coffee?" He started to head for the door, when Hogan suddenly stood up and grabbed his arm.

"Where are you going?" He asked suspiciously, tightening his grip on Newkirk's arm.

Newkirk's eyes widened with surprise. "I already told you, Colonel. I'm goin' to get LeBeau to make you some coffee."

Hogan's eyes narrowed. "How do I know that's what you're really doing?"

"Blimey, sir, you can come with me if you want! I don't know what's got you so twisted into ruddy knots all of a sudden, but you needn't worry."

Hogan stared at him, as if deciding whether to believe him. "Yeah, you're right," he said at last, "I have no reason to worry. I don't know what came over me." He let go of Newkirk's arm and took a step back. "Why don't you go get LeBeau? I'll wait here."

Newkirk smiled. "Be back in a tick," he said; then turned towards the door.

As soon as Newkirk had his back to him, Hogan grabbed the lamp from his desk. He raised it over the Englishman and brought it down swiftly; bashing him on the top of his head. Newkirk fell to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

LeBeau stared up at the trapdoor to the barracks and sighed. It had been over an hour, and he was becoming worried. "I wonder when we're going to hear something," he said, tearing his gaze away from the ceiling and glancing first at Kinch, who was sitting at the radio table; then Carter, who was leaning against one of the support beams.

Kinch smiled. "If I know the colonel, he's probably got everything under control."

"Yeah," Carter said, "I bet he's telling his funny stories, and Hochstetter's mad because Burkhalter won't let him ask questions – "

"I figured that out, myself," LeBeau interrupted, rolling his eyes.

The trapdoor over their heads suddenly opened, and Olsen peeked through. "Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know that the colonel's back, and he's in his quarters. Looks like everything went okay." Then he smiled and closed the trapdoor.

"There, see? Nothing to worry about," Carter stated, grinning broadly.

"Fine!" LeBeau snapped. "Carter, go back to your lab; I'm sure you have something to do in there."

"Boy, some people get so bossy," Carter mumbled as he turned and headed for his lab.

LeBeau sighed and looked at Kinch.

"He was worried in his own way," Kinch said. "At least everything's all right now."

"Oui," LeBeau replied. "Well, I better go up and see if the colonel needs anything." Then he walked over and climbed up to the barracks; shutting the trapdoor behind him.

* * *

Newkirk didn't know how long he was out, but as he came to, he gradually noticed two things. One was that he was lying face down on the floor, and two was that his hands were tied behind his back. He blinked his eyes and groaned, then mumbled. "Ooh, blimey, what 'appened?" Suddenly he felt hands grabbing him and yanking him to his feet. The owner of the hands spun him around, and Newkirk's eyes widened as he found himself gazing into Hogan's.

"Thought you could pull a fast one on me, didn't you?" Hogan uttered, "Well, I'm too smart for you."

Newkirk squinted at him, trying to make sense of what Hogan was telling him. "I'm not tryin' to do anythin' to you, sir. I'm just tryin' to 'elp you – "

"Liar!" Hogan hissed. He pushed Newkirk up against the wall and slid his hand up over the Englishman's throat. "I know what you want, and you're not going to get it!" He started to squeeze, causing Newkirk's eyes to widen even further.

"Colonel…stop…you're chokin' me…" Newkirk squeaked out as Hogan's grip tightened. He started to thrash against the colonel's hold on him, but that just made Hogan push him harder against the wall.

"Oh, no, you can't get away," Hogan purred, smiling smugly at him, "I'm going to stop you, once and for all."

Newkirk was growing desperate for air. He tried to inhale, but Hogan's hand tightened even more, cutting off his airflow. Everything around him became fuzzy as he began to lose consciousness. It was from a great distance that he suddenly heard the door open, and LeBeau's voice cutting through the room.

"Colonel, we heard you were back, and… Mon Dieu! What are you doing to Newkirk?"

Hogan relaxed his grip on Newkirk's throat, and the Englishman gratefully gulped in huge breaths of air. "Louis, 'elp me," he croaked out, "The Colonel's gone mad…"

The back of Hogan's hand smacked into Newkirk's face; sending stars shooting across the Englishman's vision. "Now look what you've done!" Hogan exclaimed angrily, "Well, you're not gonna get anything from me, and neither is your friend; you hear me?" He reached behind Newkirk's neck, grabbed hold of his pencil sharpener – the small knife the corporal always carried underneath his collar – pulled it out and held it up to Newkirk's throat. Then he looked over at LeBeau. "You've got five seconds to get out of here," he said in low, menacing voice, "Or I'll kill your partner here right now."

"Colonel, you can't!" LeBeau shouted.

Hogan pressed the blade of the knife firmly against Newkirk's neck. "One…two…"

LeBeau didn't know what to do. "Newkirk, I can't leave you," he found himself saying.

"Three…four…"

"Louis, just go!" Newkirk shouted.

Just as Hogan reached, "Five", LeBeau left the room and closed the door behind him. Hogan let go of Newkirk, stepped over to the door and locked it. Then he turned back to his 'prisoner' and said, "Now, tell me who you work for, and maybe I'll let you live."

* * *

LeBeau heard the door lock behind him, and glanced frantically around the barracks; trying to decide his next step. He noticed the card game was still in full swing – the men were making so much noise, they hadn't heard what had been going on in Hogan's quarters. He was still fighting the shock of seeing his beloved colonel, standing there…strangling Newkirk! He had to do something; fast_. Kinch! Of course! He'd know what to do. _ He raced over to the tunnel entrance and hit the mechanism; practically jumping up and down with impatience while waiting for the false-bottom bunk to rise. When it did, he climbed down to the tunnel below, and hurried over to the radio table, where Kinch was sitting.

"Kinch! Come quickly, mon ami! There's something wrong with the Colonel!" The words tumbled out of LeBeau's mouth as he ran around the table and grabbed Kinch's arm; tugging on it insistently.

Kinch rose quickly to his feet. "What's wrong with the colonel?" he asked, alarmed.

Just then Carter came out of his lab and, overhearing Kinch's question, glanced back and forth at the two men. "Something's wrong with the colonel?" he echoed; a worried expression instantly appearing on his face.

LeBeau nodded vigorously. "He's locked himself in his quarters! He has Newkirk in there with him! Oh, mes amis, he is trying to kill him!"

Kinch's eyes widened until they looked like they were going to pop out of his head. "What?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"The colonel is trying to kill Newkirk!" LeBeau shouted, his voice trembling with fear. "We have to stop him!"

"LeBeau…that's impossible!" Carter replied, shaking his head, "Colonel Hogan would never hurt Newkirk!"

"But I'm telling you, he is! We have to get up there and save him! Come on!" LeBeau started pulling in earnest; dragging Kinch toward the ladder. Suddenly he stopped and looked up at Kinch. "We have to be careful, mon ami… He is armed, and Newkirk's hands are tied behind his back."

Kinch stared at LeBeau for a moment. "This has to be some kind of joke, right? I can't believe what you're telling me – "

"Neither can I!" Carter interjected.

LeBeau rolled his eyes in frustration. "Please! You have to believe me! Come on! I am afraid Pierre doesn't have much time!"

Kinch continued to stare at LeBeau. He still couldn't bring himself to believe the colonel would ever hurt Newkirk, or any of them, for that matter. Still, his gut was telling him something was terribly wrong. "All right, let's go," he said, and started to climb up to the barracks.

LeBeau let out a huge sigh of relief. Then he waved Carter over. "Come on!" he exclaimed.

Carter walked over and followed Kinch up the ladder. "I still don't know what you saw, Louis, but it can't be what you think you saw," he mumbled, shaking his head again in disbelief.

"I know what I saw!" LeBeau replied defiantly. Then he followed Carter up.

* * *

Newkirk, meanwhile, couldn't believe what he was seeing or hearing, either. "What do you mean, 'Who I work for'? I bloody work for you, Colonel! You know that!"

Hogan walked up and grabbed Newkirk; then slammed him against the wall and leaned in close. "I'll ask you one more time," he growled, "Who do you work for?"

"Colonel, it's me, Newkirk…don't you recognize me?" Newkirk's voice sounded gruff in his ears. His throat was raw, and his head was throbbing so hard he could barely hear. But he had to try to get through to Hogan. _Bloody 'ell, what's the matter with 'im? Why does he ruddy think I'm someone else?_

Newkirk's effort was rewarded by another backhand across the face. "Tell me what I want to know!" Hogan shouted into the Englishman's face. Then he grinned and raised the knife, once again pressing it against Newkirk's throat. "Maybe you need a little more persuasion," he said, and drew the knife slowly across the corporal's skin, leaving a thin red trail behind.

Newkirk let out a moan and closed his eyes tight; convinced this was the end of the line for him. _After all we've been through…to die like this! _ Suddenly his eyes popped open. _No! I can't let this 'appen! _With all of his strength, he brought up his knee and slammed it into Hogan's gut. The colonel let go of him with an audible, "Oomph!", and doubled over, clutching his stomach.

Newkirk stepped away from the wall and made a beeline for the door. After he got there, he turned around and grabbed the knob with his hands, trying to open it. When it didn't budge, he remembered Hogan had locked it. He reached for the lock, and just as he turned it, Hogan grabbed him and yanked him away from the door.

"I knew it!" Hogan yelled, "You're a spy, and you and your partner are planning to kill me!" He drew back his arm and punched Newkirk in the gut with all of his strength. Newkirk exhaled forcibly; his body jerking back from the force of the blow. Before he had time to catch his breath, Hogan shoved him backward. Newkirk lost his balance and fell; landing hard on his rear. Hogan leaped on top of him; pushing Newkirk's shoulders to the floor and straddling his waist. Then he leaned in and stated triumphantly, "Well, you can't kill me if I kill you first!"

Newkirk saw the determined look in Hogan's eyes, and knew the colonel meant to kill him. He had to do something, but what could he do? Hogan had him pinned to the floor. "Colonel, please," he desperately pleaded, "I'm your friend, remember? Try to remember...you _'ave_ to remember gov'nor, please!"

Hogan's eyes darkened, and Newkirk shuddered in terror. "Your tricks don't work on me, and I'm through listening to your lies!" he yelled. Then he raised the knife over Newkirk's heart.

Just as Hogan brought the knife down, the door suddenly flew open, distracting him enough to throw off his aim. He plunged the knife into Newkirk's shoulder, causing the Englishman to cry out.

Kinch saw what happened and strode quickly over to Hogan. He grabbed his arm, yanked him off of Newkirk and spun him around to face him. Before Hogan had time to react, Kinch socked him right in the jaw. Hogan went down and hit the floor; unconscious. Then Kinch went back and knelt down next to Newkirk. He glanced over at LeBeau and Carter, who were standing in the doorway with shocked expressions, and said calmly, "Louis, go get Wilson. Carter, I want you to close the door, and come help me."

The two men hesitated only a fraction of a second. Then LeBeau turned and ran out the door; after which Carter closed it and stepped over to where Newkirk lay. He crouched down next to Newkirk, opposite of Kinch, and looked at his English friend in shock and confusion. "I…don't understand," Carter stammered, glancing over at Hogan, who was sprawled across the floor out cold; then back at Newkirk, who had cuts and bruises on his face and neck, and a knife sticking out of his shoulder, surrounded by a slowly growing red circle. "What…how…just what the heck happened, here?"

"The colonel's flipped," Newkirk replied gruffly, "He's crackers! He bloody tried to kill me!" Then a grimace formed on his face as pain shot through his shoulder, and he let out a moan. "Ooh, Kinch, could you untie me, mate?"

"I don't know, Newkirk," Kinch said, "I think we better wait for Wilson. I'm not sure you should be moving that shoulder too much with the knife still in it."

"Please, Kinch," Newkirk begged, "I'll be careful."

Kinch sighed, "All right." He slid his hands underneath Newkirk and gently rolled him onto his right side. Newkirk groaned, but didn't protest. Kinch hurriedly untied Newkirk's wrists and returned him to lying on his back.

"Thanks, mate," Newkirk uttered hoarsely, bending his arms at the elbows and wiggling his fingers, which had fallen asleep and were now tingling like crazy.

Just then they heard a groan coming from the direction where Hogan was lying. The three men looked at each other; then Carter said, "What should we do about the colonel?"

Without a word, Kinch got up and walked over to Hogan. He pulled the colonel's arms behind his back, and tied his wrists together with the same rope he'd just removed from Newkirk. He returned to his spot next to the Englishman and said, "If he wakes up, that ought 'a hold him."

Carter nodded. He glanced over at Hogan, still trying to understand what would have made him try to kill Newkirk; then he sighed and inwardly shook his head. Maybe when Wilson got there, the medic would be able to make sense of all this, because he sure couldn't.


	3. Putting the Pieces Together

A/N: This chapter contains some mild language.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

It wasn't long before the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and Sergeant Wilson hurried in, followed closely by LeBeau. As the Frenchman closed the door behind him, Wilson took stock of the situation; glancing first at Hogan, who was tied up and lying on his side on the floor, and then at Newkirk. "What the hell happened?" he asked, noticing the knife sticking out of Newkirk's shoulder.

"We'll explain later," Kinch said, waving the medic over. He moved aside as Wilson walked over and knelt down next to Newkirk.

Wilson flicked his gaze over at Hogan; then lifted his chin, gesturing to him. "What about the colonel; is he hurt, too?"

"Just a right-cross to the jaw," Kinch replied; his expression darkening ever so slightly.

Wilson noticed, and decided not to pursue it for the moment. Instead, he turned his attention back to Newkirk. "Hmm," he murmured while examining him. "Looks like the knife didn't hit anything vital." He reached into his bag that he'd set down next to him and pulled out some clean cloth. "Okay, I'm going to pull the knife out…you want something to bite down on?"

Newkirk shook his head. "Just do it," he uttered.

A slight moan coming from the direction of the door caught their attention.

"LeBeau, maybe you better not watch this," Kinch said, glancing over at the Frenchman, who was looking rather pale. "In fact, why don't you and Carter go check on the colonel."

A flash of anger passed across LeBeau's eyes. "After what he did?"

Carter, who had gotten up when Wilson came over; but, was still hovering near Newkirk, walked over to LeBeau. "Come on, Louis," he said, "I'm sure he didn't mean it. There's gotta be some reason he flipped out like he did."

LeBeau grunted, but he walked over to where Hogan lay, and knelt down next to the unconscious man. Carter circled around the Frenchman; moving up toward the colonel's head before kneeling down on the floor next to LeBeau. The American Sergeant reached over and felt Hogan's pulse; it was strong, but a little fast.

"I think he's okay," Carter directed his response at Wilson.

Wilson gave Carter a short nod; then looked down at Newkirk. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever ruddy be," Newkirk muttered.

Wilson grabbed the handle of the knife, and with one swift motion, yanked it straight out of Newkirk's shoulder. Newkirk moaned, and as the blood began to spurt out of the wound, Wilson pressed the cloth in his hand tight against it. He held it there for a few minutes; then removed the cloth and began to pull Newkirk's shirt up. "We have to get this off you," he said, pushing the material up toward the corporal's head.

Newkirk reached up to grab his shirt, but Kinch stopped him. "Just hold your arms up," he told him as he helped him lean up a little from the floor. Kinch latched onto the bottom of Newkirk's shirt, and gently pulled it over his head. Then he helped his English friend lay back down, noting with concern the look of pain on Newkirk's face.

Fresh blood began to ooze out of the wound, and Wilson immediately pressed another cloth against it. As he kept up the pressure, he glanced over Newkirk's body, and inwardly gasped; in addition to the bruises on his face, he had some on his neck, as well – bruises in the shape of a hand and fingers. He also had a cut across his throat, which, thankfully, appeared to be superficial, and a bruise just below his stomach that was fist-shaped.

"The colonel meant business, didn't he?" Wilson muttered as he lifted the cloth and looked at the stab wound. The bleeding had slowed down, so he reached into his bag and pulled out a few more items. He wiped the area with an antiseptic; then grabbed some sutures. "I have to sew this up," he said, "You sure you don't want something to bite down on?"

Newkirk looked up at Wilson. "What 'ave you got?"

Wilson smiled. He reached into his bag again and grabbed a small, thick bundle of material that had been knotted in several places. "Try this," he said, and as he placed it into Newkirk's open mouth, added, "Made it myself; it's easier on the teeth."

Newkirk bit down while Wilson prepared the suture. As Wilson sewed, he asked, "So, is anyone going to tell me exactly what happened here?"

Just then Hogan let out a groan, and shifted on the floor. His eyes blinked open, and he tried to focus. "What…where am I?" he uttered, "What happened?"

"You tried to kill Newkirk; that's what happened!" LeBeau exclaimed angrily.

"Louis, that's not helping," Carter said quietly.

Hogan looked at LeBeau; his eyes narrowing. "You!" he shouted, "I knew it! You came back to kill me, didn't you?" He started tugging at the rope around his wrists, trying to get his hands free. "Well, I'm not gonna let you!" He rolled onto his back and glared at Carter. "And you! I bet you're here to make me tell you what I know. Well, it won't work; you hear me? I'll never talk!" He continued to struggle with the rope; rolling from side to side, cursing at LeBeau and Carter.

Wilson finished stitching up Newkirk's knife wound, and put something on it to help fight infection. He then covered it with gauze, affixing it to the wound with adhesive tape. By the time Hogan had begun using four-letter words, he was finished. He took the knotted bundle of cloth from Newkirk's mouth and tossed it into his bag.

Newkirk, who'd had his eyes shut tight through most of the stitching, opened them and looked up at Wilson. A few drops slid out from the corners of his eyes; the pain causing them to tear up. "Bloody 'ell," he croaked out; his voice sounding hoarser, "That 'urt worse than the colonel ruddy stabbin' me!" He paused; then asked worriedly, "So, tell me, doc, 'ow's me shoulder?"

Wilson gave Newkirk's forearm a gentle squeeze. "It should heal up fine," he reassured him, "Just try not to move it too much for the next couple of days." He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of aspirin. After removing two of the pills, he handed them to Newkirk. "Here, take these. They'll help with the pain."

Newkirk took the pills gratefully; quickly popping them into his mouth.

Wilson smiled at him, and put the bottle of aspirin back in his bag. He looked over at Hogan, and his expression changed to worry. "I better go see what I can do for him," he said as he got to his feet, picked up his bag, and walked over to where the colonel was thrashing on the floor. He knelt down next to him; opposite of LeBeau and Carter. "Colonel Hogan," he said loudly, "I need you to calm down right now." He reached over and latched onto Hogan's arm firmly.

Hogan's eyes widened; filled with rage. "No, let me go!" he yelled, attempting to jerk his body away from Wilson, "I'll kill you…" He paused as his gaze swept the room. "_All_ of you!"

"No one's going to hurt you," Wilson stated firmly, "We're trying to help you."

"No! Get your damn hands off me!"

Wilson glanced up at Carter and LeBeau. "Give me a hand, will you?"

Kinch had just finished snagging a blanket off Hogan's bunk and laying it over Newkirk. He heard Wilson's request and went over to help. "What do you need?" he asked the medic.

"I need you to hold him down, so I can check his vitals," Wilson explained.

Kinch nodded. He knelt down next to Wilson and grabbed Hogan's arm, while Carter and LeBeau latched onto the colonel's other arm and held tight. Hogan started to thrash wildly; the words coming out of his mouth so foul they made Carter blush. It was all they could do to keep him semi-still.

Wilson worked quickly, looking for signs that would explain Hogan's current state of mind. After checking him over, he found that Hogan's pulse was rapid; he was breathing heavily and perspiring –although, some of that could be attributed to all the physical exertion – and his pupils appeared dilated. Wilson had a strong suspicion at this point of what the problem was, but there was one last thing he wanted to check before he gave the okay to let Hogan go. He glanced at the three men and said, "Sorry, fellas, but I need you to turn him over."

They all threw Wilson a look of frustration, but after some shifting and manhandling – particularly by Kinch – they managed to get Hogan on his stomach. The colonel renewed his efforts to break free, while shouting a fresh string of expletives and death threats. But his men held him fast and watched Wilson; curious, yet hesitant, to see what the medic had left to examine.

Wilson reached down and grabbed the cuff of one of Hogan's sleeve; then unbuttoned it and pushed it up his arm. He leaned down to get a closer look at his arm; paying special attention to the area in the middle, where the arm bends. Then he did the same with Hogan's other sleeve, once again scrutinizing the inside middle of his arm.

"What are you doing?" asked LeBeau.

"Looking for needle marks," Wilson answered absently. He finished his examination and leaned back. "You can let go now," he said.

The men were more than happy to comply. Carter and LeBeau released their grip on Hogan's arm, while Kinch rolled Hogan onto his side before he let go; trying to make him a little more comfortable.

Hogan was sweating and breathing fast. He stopped struggling once the men had released him, but continued to spout threats and foul language; although, even that was beginning to lessen.

Wilson watched the colonel for a moment; then, one by one, glanced at each of Hogan's men. "I'm pretty sure he's been drugged," he announced.

"Well, _that_ ruddy explains a lot!" Newkirk called out gruffly from across the room.

Kinch nodded slightly, while LeBeau's eyes flew wide. "What? How?" the Frenchman exclaimed.

Carter also looked shocked. "Yeah, how could he be drugged? I mean, we sure don't have any drugs around here, and I don't think the Kommandant keeps stuff like that in his quarters – "

"Hochstetter!" LeBeau blurted out. "I bet it was him! He must have given something to the Colonel when they were in Klink's quarters."

"Or Burkhalter did," Carter suggested.

"Or both of them did," Kinch concluded.

Wilson got up and walked back over to Newkirk. He sat down on the floor next to him and said, "I need you to tell me exactly what the colonel did to you, and how he was acting when he came back from Klink's quarters."

Newkirk's head was pounding, his shoulder was throbbing, his face and gut were sore, and it hurt to swallow; much less talk. But he gripped the blanket that was covering him tightly, and told Wilson everything that had happened; from the time when Hogan returned to the barracks, to when the medic, himself, had shown up. When he was through, his voice had all but disappeared.

"So he'd been drinking…that might explain why the effects of whatever they gave him hit him so hard," Wilson muttered. "And it might also explain how they gave him the drug in the first place, since I didn't find any marks on his arms."

Kinch frowned. "I don't get it. Why they would drug him, and then leave?"

"Maybe they thought it would be fun to let him come back to the barracks, and attack one of us. Filthy Boche!" LeBeau spat angrily.

"Or maybe they didn't want Klink to know," Carter said.

The room grew quiet as each man tried to figure out what Burkhalter and Hochstetter's real intentions were. Finally Wilson spoke up. "Well, we're not going to solve anything tonight. Newkirk, we need to get you to your bunk so you can rest."

"I might 'ave a bit o' trouble, climbin' up there," Newkirk whispered hoarsely.

"Why don't you take my bunk?" Carter offered, "I'll use yours tonight."

Wilson nodded. "That'll work."

"What about the colonel?" LeBeau asked. All eyes went to the man lying on the floor; his hands still tied behind his back.

Hogan glared back, but kept silent. He was beginning to look very tired.

"Can you give him something to knock him out?" Kinch suggested.

Wilson shook his head. "I don't dare. I don't know how it would react with the drug." He thought for a moment. "I think someone should stay here to keep an eye on him. I can do it," he volunteered.

"We can take turns," Kinch said, "I'll relieve you after, say, two hours."

"All right," Wilson replied. He got up and walked over to Hogan. "Here, why don't you help me get him up on the bunk?" He asked, looking at Kinch.

Kinch nodded. He got up and circled around to Hogan's head; then crouched down and slid his hands under the colonel's shoulders. Wilson grabbed Hogan's legs, and together they lifted him up and placed him on the lower bunk. Hogan tried to resist, but it was a weak effort, at best. He did manage to direct a few more choice words at them, however.

Kinch and Wilson made him as comfortable as they could, and covered him with a blanket. Wilson pulled up a chair next to the bunk, and as he took a seat, Kinch walked over to Newkirk. "You're next," he said, grinning down at the Englishman. Then he looked at Carter and waved him over. "Andrew, give me a hand, will ya?"

"Sure thing," Carter responded, stepping quickly over to Newkirk.

"Hey, I just thought of something," LeBeau said, "What are we going to tell the other guys? I mean, about what happened to Newkirk?"

"Well, we'll tell 'em the truth; why wouldn't we?"

LeBeau frowned. "Carter, do you really think it's a good idea for all of the men to know that the colonel tried to kill Newkirk?"

"I think they'll understand, Louis," Kinch interjected, "It's not like the colonel had any control over what he did. If anything, it's going to make the guys hate the Gestapo even more."

LeBeau thought it over for a moment. "Oui, you are right, mon ami. I'm sure they will understand."

Kinch felt a tug on the bottom of his pants. When he looked down, Newkirk said gruffly, "I bloody hate the Gestapo more…especially that twister, Hochstetter!"

Kinch smiled. "Take a number." Newkirk grinned in response. Kinch looked at Carter. "Ready?"

"You bet!" Carter replied. He leaned down at the same time as Kinch, and together they grabbed Newkirk and helped him to his feet.

"Oooh, blimey," Newkirk uttered as his friends brought him to an upright position, "Give me a minute, will you?" His head was pounding like a freight train making its rounds; all that was missing was the whistle.

"Sure, buddy," Carter replied, concerned.

Kinch and Carter waited until Newkirk was ready. Then they guided him out of Hogan's quarters, and led him towards Carter's bunk. LeBeau followed; shutting the door behind him. The card game had dispersed a while ago, and the men looked at them questioningly; having heard some of the shouting coming from the colonel's quarters. After Kinch and Carter got Newkirk situated in Carter's bunk, they turned to the men in the barracks, and Kinch proceeded to tell them what happened. Their reaction was just what he'd expected; understanding for Hogan, and anger at Hochstetter.

When everyone had finally calmed down, Kinch announced that it was time to get some sleep. The men all climbed into their bunks, and soon enough, snoring could be heard permeating throughout the large room. Newkirk was aching everywhere, but he eventually fell into an exhausted sleep; his dreams starting soon after.

"_Newkirk, come here."_

"_Yes, Colonel?"_

"_You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"_

"_No, sir, I swear!"_

_Dark, menacing eyes looking at him; accusing him, threatening him. Suddenly, a hand squeezing his throat… _

"_I can't breathe!"_

"_I'm gonna kill you!"_

"_No! Let me go!"_

"Newkirk, mon ami, it's time to wake up."

Newkirk felt a hand on his shoulder, and blinked his eyes open. "Louis, it's you!" he smiled, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Oui, it's me," LeBeau responded, returning his smile. "It's almost time for roll call." His expression changed to concern. "How are you feeling, Pierre?"

"Sore," Newkirk replied, his voice still sounding rough, "And me 'ead's ruddy killin' me."

"I think the colonel has some aspirin in his quarters. I will get you some when I go in there."

"Yeah, Louis, thanks," Newkirk responded. As LeBeau left to wake the others, Newkirk stared after him briefly. Then his gaze wandered to the door to Hogan's quarters, and he couldn't help wondering what was going on in there.


	4. Truth and Consequences

**Chapter 4**

After the rest of Hogan's men had left the colonel's quarters, Wilson shifted in his chair; attempting to make himself a little more comfortable. He looked at Hogan, whose hostile expression was slowly disappearing; being replaced by exhaustion. The colonel's eyes were beginning to droop, and Wilson inwardly breathed a sigh of relief; he could only hope it meant the drug was wearing off.

"Whatever they gave you, it's pretty strong," Wilson murmured quietly. "I just hope it won't have any lasting effects."

Hogan grunted in reply. Then he closed his eyes and, soon after, fell asleep.

Wilson kept an eye on him; paying particular attention to his breathing and pulse; which he checked every so often. Hogan remained stable, so when Kinch came to relieve him, he felt confident enough to let the sergeant take over.

"If it's easier," Wilson whispered to Kinch, "I can hop up on the colonel's upper bunk, and you can wake me up in two hours."

"You can use my bunk, if you want," Kinch whispered back.

Wilson grinned. "I'd rather stay in here; it's quieter."

Kinch nodded in understanding. Wilson climbed up to Hogan's upper bunk, and after a few minutes, he was out.

Kinch watched Hogan sleeping, wondering how the colonel was going to act when he woke up. Would he still be under the influence of whatever Hochstetter and Burkhalter gave him? Or would he be back to normal? And, if so, would he remember what happened? And how was he going to react when he found out how close he'd come to killing Newkirk?

Kinch inwardly sighed; so many questions! Well, he'd find out soon enough.

* * *

Wilson felt like he'd barely closed his eyes, when Kinch was shaking him awake. "It's a half hour until roll call," Kinch whispered, "We should probably wake up the colonel."

Wilson brought his hand up and looked at his watch. "You were supposed to get me up an hour ago!" he whispered back.

Kinch shrugged; then smiled at him.

Wilson sat up and rubbed his eyes. Then he jumped down from the bunk. "No wonder the colonel gets frustrated with you guys," he murmured. He saw the frown appear on Kinch's face and reached up to lay his hand on the tall sergeant's shoulder. "Thanks for the extra sleep," he said, flashing him a grin.

Kinch smirked. Wilson let go of his shoulder and leaned over the sleeping colonel. "He looks so peaceful," he remarked, "I almost hate to wake him."

"Me, too," Kinch replied, "But Klink's gonna notice if he's not outside for roll call."

Wilson nodded. He sat down on the edge of the bunk, reached over and shook Hogan's shoulder gently. "Colonel Hogan, it's time to wake up," he said loudly, "It's almost time for roll call."

Hogan stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and then he closed them again. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.

"Sorry, sir, you have to wake up now."

Hogan opened his eyes. "Wilson? What are you doing here?"

Wilson smiled. "Just making sure you're feeling like yourself."

Hogan blinked. "What do you mean?" He started to bring his hand up to his face, when he realized he couldn't; his hands were tied behind his back. "Hey, what's going on, here?" he said, tugging at the restraints, "Why am I tied up?"

Wilson leaned in and looked at him intently. "Colonel, what's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

Hogan's eyes narrowed with confusion. "What are you talking about?" He pulled again at the ropes around his wrists. "Someone better untie me… Now!"

"We will, sir," Kinch, who'd been standing behind Wilson, now stepped into view. "We just need to know that you're, uh, back to normal."

"What do you mean, 'Back to normal'? Kinch, I don't know what game you're playing, but you better untie me right now, or I'll bust you down to private!"

Kinch smiled at Wilson. "That sounds like the colonel to me."

"Me, too," Wilson replied, grinning. He reached for Hogan's wrists, who had rolled most of the way onto his stomach to give the medic easier access, and untied them. As he removed the rope, he saw that the colonel's wrists were red and chafed, and he frowned.

Hogan brought his arms around with a groan; they were stiff from being anchored behind his back all night. He sat up on his bunk and held his arms out in front of him, noticing the raw, red rings around his wrists. He noticed something else, too – the left side of his jaw felt like he'd banged it on something. He reached up; touching the sore spot gingerly; then he dropped his hands onto his thighs and glared back and forth between Kinch and Wilson. "All right, you've got three seconds to tell me what the hell is going on!" he shouted angrily.

Kinch and Wilson shot a glance at each other. Then Wilson looked at Hogan, took a big breath, and said, "Colonel, you were drugged last night."

Hogan's eyes flew wide. "I was _what_?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"You were drugged. We think it was either Hochstetter or Burkhalter that did it."

"Or both," Kinch added.

"Drugged?" Hogan echoed, "But, how? When?"

"We think they slipped it into your drink, sir," Kinch answered.

Wilson leaned forward. "Tell me, colonel, what's the last thing you remember?"

Hogan frowned. "Being in Klink's quarters, drinking a brandy… Oh, and Hochstetter was asking me questions about that train we blew up last night – "

"Uh, that train was two nights ago, sir," Kinch interrupted.

"What do you mean, 'Two nights ago'?" Hogan was looking more confused by the minute. "What day is this?" He paused for a moment; then added angrily, "And why was I tied up?"

"We had to tie you up; that drug made you react very violently," Wilson explained, answering Hogan's last question first, "And it's the morning after you went to Klink's quarters; in fact, it's almost time for roll call – that's why we woke you up."

Just then the door to Hogan's quarters opened slightly, and LeBeau poked his head in. Spotting Kinch first, he asked, "How is he?" He glanced over at the bunk and, seeing Hogan sitting there with his hands untied, opened the door wider and entered the room. "Mon Colonel! You are back to normal!"

"As opposed to what?" Hogan muttered. "Tell me, LeBeau, was I acting violent last night?"

LeBeau's mouth fell open. "You mean, you don't remember, Colonel? What you did to Newkirk?"

"Uh, Louis, we haven't gotten that far, yet," Kinch hastily cut in.

"What happened to Newkirk?" Hogan asked, concern now lacing his voice. Instead of waiting for an answer, he got up and headed for the main barracks. He had to pause for a moment; leaning against the doorway to his quarters, as a wave of nausea washed over him.

Wilson got up and walked over to him. "Colonel, you need to sit down," he said firmly, taking hold of Hogan's arm.

The nausea passed, and Hogan yanked his arm out of Wilson's grasp. "After I check on Newkirk," he replied determinedly. He strode across the barracks, and as he neared Newkirk and Carter's bunk, saw the Englishman standing there with his back to him, holding his shirt in his hands; which he had yet to put on. Carter was facing Newkirk, and saw Hogan coming.

"Hey, Colonel! You look like you're feeling better this morning," Carter said, smiling at him.

Newkirk's eyes widened and he whirled around. His breath caught in his throat to see Hogan standing right in front of him, and he froze.

Hogan's expression turned to shock when he saw Newkirk's injuries; his eyes darting from the Englishman's throat, to his abdomen, to the bandage on his shoulder, and back to his face. "What happened to you?" he asked, absently raising his hand toward the bruises covering the right side of the corporal's face.

Terror filled Newkirk's eyes, and he stumbled backwards; bumping into Carter. "Keep your bloody 'ands off me!" he yelled, his voice trembling.

Hogan looked at him in utter confusion. He couldn't believe what he was seeing; _Newkirk's acting like he's scared to death of me! _"Who did this to you?" he asked, his voice filling with anger.

"You did, sir," Carter answered him matter-of-factly, "Don't you remember?"

By this time, Kinch, Wilson, and LeBeau had arrived, and the French corporal purposely insinuated himself between Hogan and Newkirk. "You better not try anything, Colonel," he said, his voice containing a hint of a threat.

Hogan stared incredulously at Newkirk for a few moments. "I did that?" he muttered quietly; then he shook his head, "No, that's impossible! I would never hurt any of you!"

"You tried to kill him," LeBeau stated angrily, "I saw you!"

"Louis, you know he couldn't help it," Carter said, "Geez, he doesn't even remember!"

"You didn't see his face when he was strangling Pierre!" LeBeau exclaimed, glaring briefly at Carter.

The door to the barracks burst open, and Schultz stomped inside. "Roll call! Everybody up! Raus! It's time to wake up..." He stopped in mid-yell when he saw the cluster of men huddled around Newkirk and Carter's bunk. "Was ist los?" he asked; then his eyes lighted on the English corporal. "Newkirk! What happened to you?"

"He fell out of the bunk, Schultz," Kinch said, "But don't worry, he'll be okay."

"It looks to me like he's been fighting," Schultz replied, his eyes narrowing.

"Trust me, Schultz, he wasn't fighting," Wilson piped up; clapping the big sergeant on the shoulder.

Schultz sighed in relief. "That's good, because I have to report any fighting to the Kommandant… Sergeant Wilson, what are you doing in this barracks?"

Wilson smiled, "Just checking up on Newkirk."

Schultz rolled his eyes. "Sergeant, you need to go back to your barracks, right away!" He shooed Wilson toward the door. "Back, back, back!"

"Okay, I'm going!" Wilson replied. As he left the barracks, he shot a glance at Kinch; hoping the sergeant caught his meaning_; watch the colonel._

Kinch nodded slightly. He understood Wilson's silent message, but it hadn't been necessary. He'd already planned to keep a _very_ watchful eye on Hogan.

Schultz moved off to the other side of the barracks, resuming his wake-up call; just in case – by some miracle – someone hadn't heard him yet. Kinch grabbed Hogan's arm and began to pull him toward his quarters. "You need to finish getting ready, sir," he said.

Hogan resisted for a moment; still staring in shock at the faces in front of him; one filled with anger, the other with fear, each directed at him. "Newkirk… Newkirk, I – "

"Come on, Colonel," Kinch insisted, tugging a little more forcefully on Hogan's arm.

Hogan relented, letting Kinch guide him back to his quarters. When they got inside, Kinch closed the door. Just then another wave of nausea hit Hogan, and he had to sit down on the chair that was still by his bunk. As he waited for it to pass, he looked at Kinch questioningly. "Did I really do all that to Newkirk?" he asked, a sinking feeling coming over him.

Kinch nodded, looking at him with sympathy. "Yes, sir, you did," he said quietly.

Pain and guilt flashed across Hogan's eyes; then he stood up and looked at Kinch determinedly. "I want to know exactly what I did last night," he stated.

They both heard Schultz at the same time; bellowing again out in the main barracks.

"All right, sir, but it will have to wait until after roll call," Kinch replied.

* * *

As Kinch was leading Hogan back to his quarters, Newkirk and LeBeau both stared after them for a moment. Then the Frenchman turned around and asked, "Are you all right, mon ami?"

Newkirk glanced at LeBeau; then looked back toward Hogan's quarters. "Yeah, Louis, I'm all right," he replied gruffly. In truth, his shoulder ached, his face hurt, his throat was sore, and his head was pounding as fast as his heart. He was surprised at himself; the way he'd reacted to the colonel, but when Hogan started reaching for him, all he could think of was last night, and he'd panicked. He stood there another moment, willing himself to calm down; then he slowly and carefully pulled his shirt on over his head. He reached for his jacket, but Carter beat him to it.

"Here, buddy, let me help you," the American sergeant said as he held up the jacket for him.

Newkirk turned around and slid his arms in, mumbling, "Thanks, Carter."

Schultz started herding the men outside. Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau joined the exodus; Carter starting up on the French corporal again as they walked out into the chilly morning air. "I don't know why you're still so angry with the colonel, Louis. It's not his fault, you know."

"You didn't see the way he was last night," LeBeau challenged, "That murderous look in his eyes…" He stopped, glancing at Newkirk; then back to Carter. "It's not something you can forget so easily."

"Yeah, but he's all right now. He's not going to do it again – "

"How do you know?" LeBeau cut him off, "We don't know anything about this drug. What if he has a relapse? He could attack again at any minute!"

"Why don't you two quit your yammerin'!" Newkirk snapped at them as they took their places in line. He shut his eyes tight for a moment; the pounding in his head reaching an almost unbearable level. It eased off after several seconds, and he let out the breath he'd been holding.

Hogan and Kinch arrived just then, and slid into their customary spots. Hogan was just in time to see Newkirk sigh and open his eyes. He noticed the pain-filled expression on his face and, without thinking, reached out to lay his hand on the Englishman's shoulder.

Newkirk jerked away; throwing Hogan a look of anger mixed with fear.

Hogan dropped his arm; his gut twisting into a knot. It killed him to see one of his own men terrified of him; to look at him as though he were the enemy. He dropped his gaze to the ground in front of him; his anguish and guilt growing as he desperately tried to remember what he'd done. But all that his mind could muster was a swirl of questions… How could a drug cause him to lose that much control? How could he even be capable of inflicting those injuries on Newkirk? What exactly _had_ he done_? _And why the hell couldn't he remember?

Newkirk saw the hurt look on Hogan's face, and a pang of guilt hit him. He realized the colonel would never hurt him on purpose; it was the drug that had twisted his mind; that had made Hogan attack him. But now, even though he could see the colonel was more or less back to his old self, he couldn't get what happened out of his mind; couldn't stop seeing that look in Hogan's eyes right before he stabbed him. His colonel – a man he looked up to, a man he trusted with his life, a man he would gladly die to protect – had tried to kill him; had wanted him dead. And the look that had been in Hogan's eyes when he'd raised the knife; that cold, calculating, _determined_ look, had chilled him to the bone. He glanced over at Hogan, and felt himself shudder.

Schultz did his count, and by the time he finished, the door to Klink's office opened and the Kommandant strode quickly toward the lined-up prisoners. "Report!" Klink yelled out as he neared.

"Herr Kommandant, I beg to report, all present and accounted for!" Schultz replied eagerly.

Klink barely acknowledged the sergeant. He walked up and stopped directly in front of Hogan. "So, Colonel Hogan, how are you feeling this morning?" he asked, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"Not so great, sir," Hogan replied truthfully; he was beginning to feel nauseated again.

"I'm not surprised, Hogan," Klink replied angrily, "After what you did last night!"

"What _I_ did last night, sir?" Hogan asked, innocently, while a stab of fear shot through him; _does Klink know what I did to Newkirk, too? _

Klink glared at him. "Don't tell me you don't remember, Hogan… You got drunk and insulted General Burkhalter!"

Some of the prisoners let out a cheer. Klink, who was in no mood, glanced in the direction of the guilty culprits and yelled, "Silence! One more word and you will all be sent to the cooler for 30 days!"

There was something in Klink's voice that indicated he meant business, and the men quickly shut up.

"Now, Colonel Hogan," Klink said, turning his attention back to him, "What have you got to say for yourself?"

Hogan placed his hand on his stomach. "Can we talk about this later, sir? I think I'm going to be sick."

Before Klink could respond, Hogan stepped quickly over to the corner of the barracks and doubled over, heaving the contents of his stomach onto the ground. When he was through, he stood up and walked back, looking decidedly pale.

Klink looked at Hogan, a small twinge of sympathy tugging at his conscience. "All right, Hogan, we can discuss this when you're feeling better…" His voice trailed off as he glanced at Newkirk, standing to the left of the American colonel. "Corporal Newkirk! What happened to you?"

Klink's words were still echoing in the air when a car appeared at the gate, and after a brief check, rolled into camp. As it came to a stop in front of Klink's office, the door to the back seat opened, and a Gestapo agent climbed out. Everyone recognized who it was – Major Hochstetter.


	5. Lightning Sometimes Stikes Twice

**Chapter 5**

Major Hochstetter stood next to his car for a moment, gazing across the compound, surveying the prisoners lined up for morning roll call. His eyes came to rest on the men who belonged to Barracks two – one man in particular – and he inwardly smiled. Even from this distance, he could see that Hogan didn't look well. _ Tsk, tsk. It looks like the 'Great Colonel Hogan' had a rough night,_ he chuckled to himself, and began to walk over to him. As he approached, he noted with some irritation that Klink, who was standing near Hogan, had turned in his direction; his customary expression of fear and surprise already plastered across his face. _One of these days, Klink is going to have a nervous breakdown, _he thought, fighting to keep from rolling his eyes.

"Major Hochstetter!" Klink exclaimed nervously as the Gestapo agent neared, "What brings you here to Stalag 13 so early in the morning?"

"Why, I came to check on Colonel Hogan," he answered pleasantly, sweeping his arm toward the American officer, "He must not be feeling too well after last night." Hochstetter walked up and stopped directly in front of Hogan. "Are you?" he said, smirking at him.

Hogan stared at Hochstetter, saw the malicious gleam shining in his eyes, the gloating expression on his face, and he knew instantly that the major had been the one to drug him. Something flashed across his mind, and he suddenly remembered Hochstetter fixing him a drink in Klink's quarters – that must have been when he'd slipped the drug to him.

Hogan's expression darkened as his hatred for Hochstetter welled up inside him; hatred at what the major had done to him, hatred for causing him to hurt Newkirk, and hatred just because he was Hochstetter. A picture formed in his mind; an image of him wrapping his hands around that smug, arrogant little weasel's neck, and before he realized what he was doing, he was reaching for Hochstetter's throat.

Kinch, who had been watching the colonel very closely, saw his hands come up, and leaped forward, grabbing Hogan's arms and yanking him backwards. The colonel stumbled, but stayed on his feet.

Hochstetter had seen the deadly look in Hogan's eyes, and just as Kinch grabbed the colonel, he took a few steps back; his own eyes popping wide with fear.

Hogan tried to wrench his arms free, yelling, "I'm gonna kill you!" at the shocked major, but Kinch held him tight. The tall sergeant threw a few glances at the men around him, and a couple of them stepped up to help hold the colonel back.

As soon as Hochstetter saw that Hogan couldn't break free from the men restraining him, his face filled with fury. "You dare threaten me, Hogan?" he shouted angrily, "I should take you to headquarters right now, and show you what happens when you attack a Gestapo Major!"

Klink couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Colonel Hogan! Control yourself!" he shouted; then he turned to Hochstetter. "Major, I don't know what's gotten into him; he's never acted like this before."

"And he never will, again, when I get through with him!"

"Major, please, there's no reason for you to take Hogan back to your headquarters. I can assure you, he will be properly punished for this!"

Newkirk, who'd been standing there, watching the situation unfold, had also been watching Hochstetter's reaction closely. Suddenly he got a hunch, and spoke up in a loud and raspy voice, "Beggin' your pardon, Major, but wouldn't General Burkhalter want to know why you're takin' the colonel to your 'eadquarters?"

Hochstetter aimed his wrath at Newkirk. "This is none of your business, Corporal!" he yelled. He stared at Newkirk, fuming, and then noticed the bruises on the Englishman's face. A flicker of apprehension appeared in his eyes, and was gone.

Newkirk saw it, and inwardly smiled. "Maybe not, sir, but I bet the general would make it _'is_ business."

Hochstetter stared at him, his emotions conflicted. _Burkhalter would want to know why Hogan went crazy, and he might find out what I did, _he thought at first. _Of course, men lose control all the time, _was his next thought. He continued to stare at Newkirk, becoming convinced that his injuries had been inflicted by Hogan. _ But, if the general found out what Hogan did to one of his men… _

"Klink!" Hochstetter growled, "You need to control your prisoners!" He threw an angry glance at Hogan; then turned and stomped off to his car.

Kinch waited until Hochstetter was in his car before letting go of Hogan. He signaled to the others that it was all right, and they resumed their places in line.

After the Gestapo Major's car left the camp, Klink whirled on Hogan. "What's the matter with you?" he yelled, "Do you have some kind of death wish, Hogan?"

"He drugged me last night!" Hogan shouted back.

Klink's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Hochstetter! He put something in my drink!"

Klink's jaw fell, and he stared at him for a moment in disbelief. "Colonel Hogan, do you honestly expect me to believe that Major Hochstetter drugged you?" he exclaimed at last.

"He did!" Hogan replied defiantly, "Why else would he show up here this early? He wanted to see what it did to me!"

Anger filled Klink's face. "Hogan, you got drunk last night and insulted General Burkhalter. The only reason you're telling me this cockamamie story is to get me to excuse you from your disgraceful behavior! Well, guess what? I don't believe you!"

"Kommandant, I'm telling you – "

"Silence, Hogan!" Klink thundered, "You are confined to your barracks until I decide a suitable punishment!"

Klink turned and headed for his office, yelling, "Dismissed!" as he went.

"C'mon, Colonel," Kinch said, placing a hand on Hogan's shoulder from behind, "Let's go back to the barracks."

Hogan glared after Klink; then shook Kinch's hand off. "I don't need your help; I know the way," he mumbled irritably. He turned and headed into the barracks, making a beeline for his quarters.

The rest of the men followed him in; bewilderment clearly showing on their faces. They were just in time to see Hogan enter his quarters and slam the door shut. Newkirk walked over and leaned against the corner of his bunk, while Carter came over and stood next to him. Kinch and LeBeau joined them, and all four men stared at the door to Hogan's quarters for several moments.

"Should we go talk to him?" Carter asked at last.

"Let's give him a few more minutes," Kinch replied, "Then I'll go talk to him."

"Boy, I've never seen him act like that before," Carter said, absently shaking his head, "If he'd actually gotten his hands on Hochstetter – "

"He'd be dead right now," Newkirk cut in.

Carter's eyes widened slightly. "What do you suppose made him do that?"

"It's the drug," LeBeau said, "I told you; he can have a relapse any time!"

"Wait, how do you know that, Louis?" Carter asked, raising an eyebrow.

LeBeau scowled at him briefly; then let out a sigh. "All right, I don't know that for sure, but whatever Hochstetter gave him was very strong, and I've heard that some strong drugs can cause relapses. Besides, you saw him this morning, he was out of control!"

"Yeah, he lost his temper," Kinch said, "But it wasn't a relapse. He knew what was going on, and who we all were."

"He still reacted pretty violently, didn't he?" Newkirk remarked gruffly.

LeBeau frowned. "Well, maybe it wasn't a relapse, but the drug is obviously still affecting him."

"Well, _I'm_ just glad Hochstetter didn't haul him away!"

"Oui Andre. Me, too."

It was Kinch's turn to frown. "Yeah, I was surprised about that. I thought he was gonna take the colonel away for sure. I wonder what changed his mind?"

Newkirk smiled. "I believe I can answer that, my good man."

Kinch raised an eyebrow. "Please do," he replied, looking at him curiously.

"It was when I suggested lettin' Burkhalter know why he was takin' the colonel in to 'is 'eadquarters," Newkirk started to explain, his voice still raspy. He paused to clear his throat, but it didn't help. Shrugging, he continued, "He got this look in 'is eyes, like he didn't want the general to find out, because then he'd have to tell 'im why the colonel went crazy."

The three men looked at him uncomprehendingly.

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Don't you get it? Burkhalter doesn't know that Hochstetter drugged the colonel. So that means – "

"That means, Hochstetter didn't have permission," Kinch finished for him.

The four men looked at each other for a moment. "Then, why did he do it?" Carter asked at last.

LeBeau's face filled with fury. "Because he hates the colonel, that's why! He knows he will never get his filthy hands on him, so he has to try to hurt him another way! He's...he's a…"

"Son of a Bitch!" Carter exclaimed.

The others looked at him, mouths agape.

Carter stared back; looking surprised at their reactions. "Well, he is!"

"No one's arguin' with you there, mate," Newkirk said.

"So, what do we do now?" LeBeau asked.

"Not much we can do at the moment," Kinch replied. "I think it's time for me to go talk to the colonel, anyway."

"You goin' to tell 'im? About Hochstetter, I mean."

Kinch appeared to mull it over briefly; then slowly shook his head. "Not right away. I think I should tell him what he did to you, first, and see how he reacts to that." He thought for another moment; then asked, "You want to come with me, Peter?"

Fear flickered across Newkirk's eyes, and was gone. "You think that's a good idea, mate?"

Kinch shrugged. "Well, if you're there, you can make sure I get it right." He saw the hesitation in Newkirk's expression, and added, "I don't think you have to worry about the colonel doing anything."

Newkirk frowned. "I wasn't worried about _that_. I'm just wonderin' if my bein' there will make it 'arder for 'im; when he finds out what he did…"

"Or it might make him feel better; you know, to see that you're okay," Carter interrupted.

"It's up to you," Kinch told Newkirk.

Newkirk nodded. "All right, mate, I'll come with you."

Kinch grinned at him. He tilted his head in the direction of Hogan's quarters and said, "Come on."

The two men walked over and Kinch knocked on the door. "Colonel, we'd like to talk to you," he said, and waited for Hogan's response. When he heard the colonel call out his permission for them to enter, Kinch turned the knob and slowly opened the door.

Hogan, who was sitting on the lower bunk in his quarters, watched Kinch and Newkirk enter and gestured absently for them to take a seat. Ever since he'd returned from roll call and isolated himself in his quarters, he'd been trying to get a grip on his anger and emotions. At first he'd been livid; pacing the floor, mumbling expletives under his breath, cursing Hochstetter, as well as a generous portion of the upper echelon of the Nazi party. After he calmed down, he'd plopped on his lower bunk, wondering what was wrong with him, that he couldn't seem to control his temper. What had he been thinking, attacking Hochstetter! By the time Kinch knocked, he'd fallen into a state of despair, wondering if he was ever going to return to normal…and, if not, what then?

"How are you feeling, sir?" Kinch asked, plopping down on the chair that was still sitting near the bottom bunk.

"Better," Hogan lied.

Newkirk shut the door, and just stood in front of it. "That's good to 'ear, sir," he said in his raspy voice.

Hogan looked at the Englishman; a pang of guilt sweeping over him. "How are _you_ feeling?" he asked.

Newkirk flashed him a small grin. "I'm all right, sir."

Hogan stared at him for a moment; then let out a huge sigh. He looked at Kinch and said, "Okay, I'm ready. Tell me what I did last night."

Kinch nodded. He proceeded to fill Hogan in on the details of the previous evening; glancing a few times at Newkirk to see if he got it right, pausing once or twice when Newkirk had to add or correct something. By the time he was finished, Hogan was looking ill again.

Silence fell over the room for a few moments. Hogan finally found his voice. "I did all that?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, you did," Newkirk replied, still hovering by the door.

Newkirk's apprehension and uneasiness wasn't lost on Hogan. He rose from his bunk and walked up to him, stopping before he got too close. He looked at him beseechingly and said, "Newkirk, I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me. You have to believe me; I would never intentionally hurt you like that."

Newkirk had been watching Hogan warily, keeping his expression guarded, but when he heard the anguish and sincerity in Hogan's voice, he sighed. "I know, sir, but you 'ave to understand; you bloody scared the livin' daylights out of me!"

Hogan nodded. "I do understand, and I promise I'll never lay a hand on you like that again."

Newkirk's expression softened. "I know you won't, gov," he replied, allowing a small grin to appear on his face.

Hogan smiled back. He slowly reached up and placed his hand on Newkirk's shoulder.

Newkirk initially tensed, but quickly forced himself to relax. He knew he'd have to start letting himself trust Hogan again, and soon; or it would make their living situation difficult – at best – not to mention their working relationship.

Hogan gave him a slight nod, and Newkirk nodded back. Then Hogan dropped his arm and turned towards Kinch. "Hochstetter's behind all this, isn't he?"

"Funny you should mention that, Colonel," Kinch replied, and proceeded to tell him what they'd figured out. When he was through, Hogan's expression had darkened considerably.

"He's going to pay for this," Hogan replied ominously, "I don't know how yet, but he's going to pay."

Newkirk and Kinch both nodded in agreement. "You can count me in, Colonel," Newkirk said.

"Me, too, sir," Kinch added.

Hogan nodded; then he looked at Kinch and gestured towards the door. "Go tell Carter and LeBeau to come in here. We've got some planning to do."

* * *

Major Hochstetter arrived at his office and sat down at his desk; still fuming over what had happened back at Stalag 13. _I should have killed you, Hogan! _he thought, glaring at the wall across the room_, I should have brought you here so I could've taken you apart, piece by piece; made you scream until you begged to tell me you're Papa Bear! _ He shifted in his chair, his face taking on a look of determination. _ I'm going to get you, Hogan; make no mistake about that! Somehow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I've been right all along…_

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone on his desk ringing. He already knew who was on the other end, and he inhaled deeply; then let out a huge sigh. He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear. "Major Hochstetter, here," he said as calmly as he could.

"_Major Hochstetter," _Colonel Schaeffer, his superior, addressed him through the phone, _"I want to know what progress you've made in finding the saboteurs who destroyed that train two nights ago."_

Hochstetter swallowed hard. "Colonel Schaeffer, sir, I believe I know who is behind it, but I haven't had the opportunity to question him – "

"_You're going to tell me you suspect Colonel Hogan again, aren't you?"_

"I know he's Papa Bear!" Hochstetter shouted; then realized what he'd just done, and quickly backtracked. "Forgive me, sir, but I am convinced that Colonel Hogan is the head of the sabotage unit that's operating in the vicinity of Stalag 13." He heard a sigh on the other end of the phone.

"_And what proof do you have, Major?"_

"Well…nothing concrete, sir…" He could almost feel Schaeffer's impatience and irritation through the phone. "But, in my defense, Colonel," he quickly continued, "I have been unable to properly interrogate Hogan. Every effort I've made to bring him in for questioning has been blocked by General Burkhalter."

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few moments. Hochstetter was just about to speak up again, when Schaeffer answered.

"_You have a point, Major. Perhaps it would be a good idea to question Colonel Hogan properly. I will contact General Burkhalter, and discuss it with him."_

Hochstetter breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Thank you, Colonel Schaeffer! I'm sure I can get all the proof you need when I interrogate Hogan."

"_I will call you as soon as I receive General Burkhalter's approval."_

"Yes, sir. Oh, and Colonel? I would also like to bring one of Hogan's men in with him. He is rather protective of them, and it might make him more willing to open up – "

"_Yes, yes, I know how it works. Very well, I will suggest it when I speak with the general. Anything else, Major?"_

"Just one more thing, sir. There's a new drug that has been developed by our scientists, called XN-5, which looks very promising. I would like to use it on Hogan during my interrogation."

"_Yes, I've seen the report. I will pass your request on to General Burkhalter – "_

"Do you really need to mention it to him, sir?" Hochstetter cut in, "This is a Gestapo matter, after all."

Another few moments of silence. Then Schaeffer answered, _"Yes, this is a Gestapo matter. Very well, Major, you have my permission to use whatever means are at your disposal."_

Hochstetter smiled wide. "Thank you, Colonel."

Schaeffer grunted a reply, and hung up.

Hochstetter leaned back in his chair, almost giddy with anticipation. _I've got you now, Hogan, and your smart-mouth corporal, too. And this time when I drug you, I'll get to watch what happens. As for the Englander, he won't be very happy to be your punching bag again, will he? So, if you still won't talk, maybe Corporal Newkirk will._


	6. Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire

**Chapter 6**

"Well, what if we tell Klink that one of us is willing to talk, and to contact Hochstetter and tell him to come here right away, and then when the major gets here, we sneak him down to the tunnels and ship him off to England?" Carter suggested. He looked at the disapproving faces staring at him, and his enthusiasm quickly deflated.

Newkirk rolled his eyes. "Andrew, don't you think someone's goin' to get suspicious when Hochstetter suddenly disappears? They'll tear this camp apart!"

"Yeah, you're probably right," Carter replied, casting his gaze to the floor.

Hogan and his men had been trying to figure out a way to get rid of Hochstetter for an hour now, and none of them had come up with a workable solution.

"LeBeau, why don't you go and make some breakfast," Hogan said, "Maybe we'll all think better on a full stomach."

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau replied, and slipped out of Hogan's quarters.

"I don't know, Colonel," Kinch said after LeBeau left, "So far we've come up with kidnapping him, shooting him, blowing him up – "

"Which would bloody prove 'is point, wouldn't it?" Newkirk interrupted, "That we're behind all the sabotage in the area."

" – Sticking him on a train headed to the Russian Front – "

"I liked that one," Carter piped up.

" – Poisoning him, pushing him off a cliff, and didn't I hear someone suggest stealing a tank and crushing his headquarters, with him still inside?" Kinch finished.

Carter raised his hand halfway; then brought it down quickly. "That was me," he said, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Hogan sighed in frustration. He stood up and began to pace the small room. "Some of those ideas aren't bad. The problem is figuring out how to do it without blowing the operation, or getting ourselves killed. This isn't some relatively unknown bad guy that we're trying to get rid of – this is Major Hochstetter. Everyone knows how involved he is with the goings-on in this camp. It's like trying to get rid of General Burkhalter."

"Hey, maybe we can get rid of him, too!" Carter exclaimed excitedly.

"It'd be like killing two birds with one stone," Kinch commented.

Newkirk's eyebrow rose. "Yeah…only, for one o' them birds, you'd need somethin' bigger than a stone!"

"C'mon guys, this isn't helping!" Hogan exclaimed, frowning at them. Then his face relaxed and he broke into a grin. "A stone? We'd need Carter's tank!"

The four men chuckled. Just then the door opened, and LeBeau took a step into the room. "Schultz is here, Colonel, and he's looking for you."

Newkirk smirked. "Just tell 'im we're busy plottin' Hochstetter's demise."

"Yeah, Peter," Kinch said, clapping him on the back as they all headed out to the main barracks, "And then we'll have to get rid of Schultz too, for knowing too much."

"Oh, 'aven't you 'eard, mate? Schultz knows nothing!"

Newkirk and Kinch were still grinning when the group reached the barrack's door, where the big German guard was standing.

"Colonel Hogan, there you are!" Schultz said, "The Kommandant wants to see you in his office."

"Aw, come on, Schultz," Hogan complained, "I haven't even had breakfast yet!"

"I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan, but the Big Shot said to bring you to his office right away!"

Hogan glanced at LeBeau. "Keep it warm for me, will ya?" Then he looked at Schultz. "All right, let's go."

As Hogan and Schultz made their way across the compound, Hogan's men returned to his quarters, and quickly set up the coffee pot receiver. "You think the Kommandant's still mad about this mornin'?" Newkirk asked the room at large while they were all finding places to sit.

"I think we're about to find out," Kinch replied.

* * *

Hogan and Schultz reached the bottom of the stairs leading to Klink's office and, without pausing, Hogan went up; taking them two at a time. Schultz followed, a little more slowly; then the two men entered the building – Hogan in the lead. When he reached the door to Klink's office, Hogan rapped twice and then opened the door without waiting for Klink's response. "You wanted to see me, Colonel?" he asked as he entered.

Klink looked at him with obvious irritation. "Yes, Hogan, sit down, please." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

Hogan sat. He crossed his legs, removed his crush cap and balanced it on his knee. Then he looked at Klink expectantly, having already guessed that the German Colonel was not in the best of moods.

Klink stared at him for a moment; as though waiting for Hogan to make one of his innocent little quips, which was usually more of a thinly-veiled insult. When none seemed to be forthcoming, he leaned back a little in his chair, and cleared his throat. "Hogan, I am still very upset about your disgraceful behavior at roll call this morning," he began. "I have given it some thought, and I am sentencing you to sixty days in the cooler; to begin immediately."

Hogan's eyes widened. "What?" he exclaimed, "Come on, Colonel, it wasn't my fault! I told you, Hochstetter – "

"And I told you I don't believe it!" Klink cut him off, slamming his hand down on the desk and jumping to his feet. "Hogan, I have put up with your shenanigans, I have defended you to my superiors, I have gone out of my way to keep you from being hauled off by the Gestapo because, at some level, I respect you, and I believe that my no-escape record is, in part, thanks to your cooperation. But this time you have gone too far! Insulting General Burkhalter and attacking Major Hochstetter…I cannot let this go unpunished. Sixty days in the cooler, and that's final!"

Klink stood there, glowering at Hogan who, for once, found himself speechless. "Schultz!" Klink yelled, knowing the guard was waiting on the other side of the door. Schultz opened the door almost immediately, and Klink looked over at him. "Escort Colonel Hogan to the cooler," he ordered tersely.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz replied smartly, knowing from his tone Klink meant business. He looked over at the man rising from the chair and said, "Colonel Hogan, come with me."

Hogan, still in shock, could only nod at the German guard.

Schultz gestured for Hogan to exit the room first, and he followed closely behind. Once they'd left Klink's office and climbed down the stairs, Schultz walked next to Hogan; wanting to say something, but not knowing what. When they finally reached the cooler and Schultz had locked Hogan in a cell, he asked, "Is it true? Did Major Hochstetter really drug you?"

Hogan let out a disgusted sigh. "Yeah, Schultz, it's true. Not that Klink's ever going to believe me."

Schultz stared at him for a moment. "_I_ believe you, Colonel Hogan," he said. Then he turned and left, leaving Hogan alone with his anger and frustration.

* * *

After Hogan and Schultz left Klink's office, Kinch unplugged the coffee pot and put it away. "I think that answers your question, Peter," he said, looking at Newkirk.

"Blimey, I've never 'eard Klink so mad," Newkirk replied, slowly shaking his head.

"_Now_, what do we do?" Carter asked.

"Well, I l know what _I'm_ going to do," LeBeau said, "I'm going to make breakfast, and take some to the Colonel."

The men all headed out to the main barracks; LeBeau to the stove, the others to take a seat at the table. Newkirk sat down on the side near his bunk; Kinch and Carter sat opposite him. They glanced about the room in silence for a few moments, focusing on nothing in particular, lost in their own thoughts while LeBeau busied himself with preparing breakfast. At last Carter spoke up.

"I guess this means we won't be getting rid of Major Hochstetter for a while," he uttered, sounding disappointed.

"This means we won't be doing much of anything for the next two months," Kinch replied, sighing in frustration.

Newkirk frowned. "There's got to be a way to get Klink to let 'im out of there sooner."

Kinch shook his head. "I don't think so, Peter. You heard how mad he was."

The door to the barracks opened, and Wilson entered. He saw the men seated at the table and walked over, plopping down next to Newkirk. "Just the man I came to see," he said, grinning at him.

"Oh, joy," Newkirk replied sarcastically.

Wilson eyed him curiously. "Your voice sounds a little better; still a bit raspy. How's your head feeling?"

Newkirk looked at him, annoyed. "Do we 'ave to do this now, Wilson?"

"Yes, we have to do this now," Wilson stated firmly, changing into business mode, "And then I'm going to check up on the colonel."

"You might have to get permission from the Kommandant for that," Kinch told him, and proceeded to explain what happened.

Wilson sighed. "Well, after that outburst at roll call, I'm not too surprised. We all got restricted to our barracks until a few minutes ago. So, how was the colonel acting after his, uh, run-in with Major Hochstetter?"

Carter shrugged. "Pretty much back to normal, I'd say."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed, turning his attention away from the stove momentarily, "In fact, we were all trying to come up with a plan to get rid of Major Hoch – "

"Louis!" Newkirk hissed, cutting him off, "Wilson doesn't need to know about that!"

Wilson raised an eyebrow. "I thought we weren't in the revenge business," he said quietly.

"This isn't revenge," LeBeau argued, "It's justice! After what he did, he deserves whatever we do to him!"

"Sounds like revenge to me," Wilson replied, staring steadily at him.

LeBeau opened his mouth to reply, but Carter beat him to it. "Well, maybe it does, a little," he said, "But I figure, if he does this once and gets away with it, then what's to stop him from doing it again? I sure don't want to see the colonel go through that again, do you?"

Everyone shook their heads, 'No'.

"Not only that," Newkirk added, "But Hochstetter might not stop there. What if he decides to slip that ruddy stuff to one of the other prisoners?"

Wilson threw up his hands. "Hey, you don't have to sell me!" He put his arms down and glanced at the determined faces in front of him. "I just hope you all know what you're doing," he said, very seriously.

Kinch nodded. "We'll be careful."

Wilson let out a sigh. Then he turned his attention back to Newkirk. "You didn't answer my question. How's your head?"

Newkirk rolled his eyes.

* * *

LeBeau finished preparing breakfast, and snuck some to Hogan who, luckily, had been put in one of the cells with tunnel access. He kept the colonel company while he ate; both of them listening keenly for the sound of an approaching guard.

Hogan finished quickly; then sat back with a contented sigh. "LeBeau," he said, keeping his voice low, "I don't know what I'd do without your cooking."

LeBeau smiled. "I will bring all your meals to you, mon colonel; for as long as you are in here."

"I suppose you all heard?" Hogan asked, unnecessarily.

LeBeau nodded. "Sixty days. It's so unfair!"

"Well, maybe once Klink cools off I can get him to reduce it."

"I hope so, sir." LeBeau replied sincerely. He began to gather up the empty dishes.

"So, anything going on in the barracks?" Hogan asked, reluctant to let LeBeau leave. He wasn't looking forward to going back to being alone.

"Wilson stopped by," LeBeau told him, "He wanted to examine Newkirk."

Hogan grinned. "I bet Newkirk didn't make it easy for him."

"What makes you say that, Colonel?" LeBeau smiled.

Hogan chuckled. Then his expression became serious. "How _is _Newkirk doing?"

"He is healing. Wilson checked his stitches, and he said they looked fine. Newkirk told him his head wasn't hurting as much, thanks to the aspirin you gave him earlier this morning, but I'm not sure Wilson believed him. His throat is still bruised, and his face…" LeBeau trailed off when he saw the pained look in Hogan's eyes. "But, you know what his face looks like already, mon Colonel," he finished quietly.

Hogan just nodded.

LeBeau could clearly see by Hogan's expression the guilt he was feeling, and it made his own guilt rise to the surface. "Colonel, I am sorry that I overreacted earlier this morning when you first saw Newkirk. I was afraid you might, what I mean is, I was afraid the drug hadn't completely worn off, and – "

"It's all right," Hogan cut in, placing his hand on LeBeau's shoulder, "I know you were just protecting Newkirk. If I had been in your position, I would have done the same."

"So, you don't blame me for acting like that?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then, maybe you shouldn't blame yourself, either."

Hogan frowned. "That's different. _I'm_ the one who attacked Newkirk, and caused those injuries."

LeBeau looked at him curiously. "Did you do it on purpose?"

Hogan's eyes widened. "No, of course not!"

LeBeau smiled. "Touché, Colonel."

Hogan stared at his French Corporal for a moment; then a grin slowly appeared on his face. "Very clever, Louis. What would I do without you?"

LeBeau felt himself blush slightly at Hogan's use of his first name. His smile broadened and he replied almost teasingly, "Lucky for you, mon Colonel, you won't have to find out!"

Hogan's smile mirrored LeBeau's. "Now, that's the best news I've had all day!"

A noise suddenly drifted down the corridor, and both men heard it at the same time. "You better get going," Hogan said, and reached out to help him stack the remaining dishes on the tray.

LeBeau picked up the tray and hurried over to the small opening in the wall of the cell. "I'll return later with your lunch, sir," he uttered, barely above a whisper.

Hogan nodded. "Thanks," he whispered back, his response laden with meaning.

LeBeau nodded in understanding. Then he disappeared into the opening, and quickly slid the large brick closed behind him.

* * *

Hogan paced the cell, checking his watch every so often, wondering when LeBeau was going to appear with his lunch. It was almost 1400 hours – 2:00 pm in civilian terms. He wasn't really that hungry; he was just looking forward to a little human companionship. _I wonder what's taking so long? _ he fretted, making another pass across the small room. Just then he heard footsteps coming down the hallway; getting louder as they approached his cell.

Hogan stopped pacing and listened as the footsteps came to a stop in front of the door to his cell. A key was inserted into the lock, and the door swung open. Hogan's eyes widened with surprise to see Klink standing there.

"Kommandant," Hogan said, trying to keep his voice light, "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"I'm sure you weren't, Hogan," Klink responded. There was no anger in his voice, but it did carry a touch of sadness.

"Colonel," Hogan began, sensing something was horribly wrong, "I just want to apologize for my unacceptable behavior. I promise it won't happen again. I understand why you gave me sixty days, but surely thirty days would be enough to – "

"Hogan, you're free to go," Klink interrupted, pulling the door open wider. "You may return to your barracks."

Hogan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Just like that, Kommandant?"

Klink nodded mechanically. "Just like that."

Hogan approached Klink slowly, wondering if it was some kind of trick. He got to the door, and the German Colonel stepped aside to let him through. Hogan walked out of the cell, inwardly reveling in his unexpected reprieve. Before he could leave the cooler; however, Klink spoke up one more time, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Major Hochstetter is on his way, Colonel Hogan. He is planning to take you in to his headquarters for questioning. Apparently General Burkhalter was only too happy to grant permission; after you insulted him last night."

Hogan whirled to look at Klink. "What?"

Klink nodded, looking at him with pity. "I suggest you prepare yourself, Hogan," he said; then added, "Oh, and Major Hochstetter will be also be bringing in another one of your men with you; Corporal Newkirk. I suggest you inform him, as well."


	7. Things Look Darkest, and Then Get Darker

**Chapter 7**

Hogan walked out of the cooler; his mind still reeling from what Klink had just told him. _How can this be happening?_ He thought furiously. _Why the hell would Burkhalter let Hochstetter bring me in for questioning, after what that weasel did to me! _ _Oh, but, Burkhalter doesn't know about that, does he? _His brow furrowed in confusion. _Was my insult really that bad? _Frustrated, he shook his head. _Wish I could remember what I said. _Suddenly his stomach twisted into a knot. _I bet Hochstetter's planning to drug me again, isn't he? That's why he's bringing Newkirk…_

As soon as he exited the building, he saw Schultz standing there, waiting to escort him back to his barracks, and a tiny ember of fear began to smolder in his gut. There was no way out this time, was there? He'd always known this day might come and, somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd prepared himself as well as he possibly could for just such an eventuality. But he hadn't counted on one of his men being included; not like this. A picture formed in his mind, an image of Newkirk lying on the ground; wounded, beaten, seriously injured, perhaps even – no, he wouldn't allow himself to consider that – and all of it done by his hand. His gut tightened, and he swallowed hard as the ember of fear grew hotter.

Schultz saw the look on Hogan's face as he walked out of the building, and could only shake his head in sympathy. "Colonel Hogan, I'm sorry, but I have to take you back to your barracks, now."

Hogan just nodded.

They crossed the compound in silence; Hogan trying to figure out how he was going to tell his men: how he was going to tell Newkirk. When they reached the barracks door, Schultz turned to him and said, "I will come and get you and Newkirk when Major Hochstetter arrives. Until then, you and the rest of the prisoners are confined to the barracks." The German guard looked at him sadly. "Colonel Hogan, I…I am very sorry," he uttered; not knowing what more he could say.

Hogan reached up and grabbed Schultz's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thanks, Schultz," he replied; then he stared, almost pleadingly, into the German's eyes. "Look after my men, will you?"

Schultz nodded. "I will, Colonel Hogan."

Hogan smiled at him. Then he let go of Schultz's arm and entered the barracks.

He'd no sooner closed the door, when the men all approached him with excitement. "Colonel, you're back!" LeBeau exclaimed. "I was just about to bring you your lunch – "

"Colonel!" Kinch interrupted, "How did you manage to get Klink to let you out so soon?"

"It sure is great to see you, sir!" Carter responded; a big smile on his face.

"I don't know 'ow you did it, sir, but we're glad to 'ave you back!" Newkirk added.

The rest of the men were voicing their delight over his unexpected return, and Hogan finally had to hold up his hands and shout, "Okay fellas, pipe down!"

The room grew silent; the men at last noticing the colonel's expression. Hogan glanced at the faces staring at him, and let out a huge sigh. "I've just been informed by Colonel Klink that Major Hochstetter is on his way here, and he's planning to take me in to Gestapo Headquarters for questioning."

The room exploded with noise; everyone talking at once. Hogan's core group in particular appeared almost frantic.

"What? How did Hochstetter get permission?" Kinch asked, in disbelief.

"There is still time, mon Colonel; we can get you out of here!" LeBeau shouted.

"He's right, sir," Newkirk said loudly, grabbing Hogan's arm, "We can 'ide you in the tunnels until Hochstetter leaves, and then send you back to England – "

"All right, that's enough!" Hogan yelled, extricating his arm from Newkirk's grasp. The men fell silent once again.

Hogan glanced slowly around the room; his gaze lingering over his four main men. "Look, we all knew this could happen," he announced, "And there's nothing any of us can do to change it. I can't let you jeopardize the mission just to save me." He paused for a moment; dreading what he had to say next. "Newkirk," he said quietly, placing his hand on the corporal's shoulder, "He wants to take you, too."

Newkirk's eyes popped wide. "What?"

Hogan nodded; his own eyes flashing with anger. "I'm sure you can guess why."

Newkirk looked at him, confused. Then he realized what Hogan was referring to, and his face filled with fear. "You think he's plannin' to – "

"Yes, I do," Hogan cut in.

Carter was glancing back and forth between Hogan and Newkirk; looking more confused by the minute. "What? What's he planning to do?" he asked.

"Use the drug on the colonel again," Kinch told him.

"Oh, no, he can't!" LeBeau exclaimed, "He can't do that to you again!"

Hogan sighed. "There's not much I can do to stop him, LeBeau."

"But, mon Colonel, that drug can't be good for you. If he keeps giving it to you…" LeBeau noticed Hogan's expression, and stopped.

"LeBeau, I think we all know this is a one-way trip," Hogan said quietly. Then he looked at Newkirk and his gut lurched. "You weren't supposed to be invited." He thought for a moment, as an idea formed. "You know, you could hide in the tunnels until they take me away, and escape back to London when the coast is clear. Hochstetter's less likely to tear up the camp looking for you – it's me he really wants."

Newkirk stared at him, and for a brief moment, was sorely tempted. He knew Hogan was trying to protect him, but he also knew that if he took him up on it, he would be putting the men and the operation in danger. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that Hochstetter would let his disappearance go that easily; not when he'd made it a point to ask for him specifically. And even if he did get away without causing repercussions to the men in the camp, Hochstetter would just choose someone else – maybe Kinch, or Andrew, or even Louis – and he wasn't about to let that happen.

Newkirk, still looking at Hogan, forced a grin on his face and replied, "What, and miss the party? Not a chance!"

Hogan read Newkirk's face, and nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze. Then he dropped his hand and turned to his radioman. "Kinch, contact London; let them know what's going on. And get ready to evacuate the camp, just in case. I'm not gonna give that bastard any information; not if I can help it, and I know Newkirk won't either," he announced defiantly, "But…" his voice trailed off as the reality of the situation sunk in for everyone. They all knew what the Gestapo were capable of.

Carter suddenly pushed forward. "No, you can't do this, sir! You can't let Hochstetter take you and Newkirk away!" He glanced desperately between them. "You can both still get out of here! We'll cover for you, right, fellas?" He swept his gaze quickly around the room and brought it back to the two men standing before him. "Colonel… Newkirk… Peter, please!" he implored, reaching out and grabbing Newkirk's arm tightly.

LeBeau stepped up next to Carter. "He's right, sir! I'm sure we can come up with a distraction – "

Just then the door to the barracks opened, and Schultz walked in; his footsteps heavy. "It's time to go, Colonel Hogan, Newkirk. Major Hochstetter is here," he announced sadly.

"It's too late," Newkirk uttered quietly as he gently removed his arm from Carter's grasp. He put his hand on the sergeant's shoulder and looked him in the eyes; letting his emotions show through, telling him without words how he really felt. He glanced at Kinch next; then LeBeau, the same expression on his face. Then he dropped his hand and took a step back. "Take care, mates," he said softly, and went to join Schultz by the door.

"Colonel…" Kinch hesitated; at a loss for words.

"Colonel Hogan, you have to come with me now," Schultz called out, not wanting to rush him, but not very eager to keep Hochstetter waiting.

"Kinch, you're in charge," Hogan said; then he dropped his voice, "You know what to do." He looked at his men, one at a time, his eyes telling each of them goodbye, telling them how much they've all meant to him, telling them how sorry he was that it had to end this way. Then he turned and headed for the door, and Schultz led him and Newkirk away.

* * *

When Hogan and Newkirk got outside, they both noticed Hochstetter's car sitting in front of Klink's office, and the man, himself, standing next to it; a gleeful smile plastered across his face. There were two Gestapo guards on either side of him; both holding handcuffs at the ready.

Schultz brought them up to the Gestapo Major, and stepped aside. Hochstetter didn't waste any time. "Guards!" he yelled, and the two men walked over and circled around Hogan and Newkirk; pulling their arms behind them and slapping the cuffs on. Newkirk winced when the guard behind him tugged on his left arm forcefully, sending a shooting pain through his shoulder. His reaction didn't go unnoticed by Hochstetter.

The Major walked up and stood in front of Hogan, grinning from ear to ear. "So, Hogan, it looks like you will finally be my guest at Gestapo Headquarters. I'm sure we have a lot to talk about."

"You gonna drug me again?" Hogan shot back.

Hochstetter's eyes widened. "What? How did you find out I…" he quickly caught himself and replied innocently, "Why, Colonel Hogan, I don't know what you're talking about." He nodded at his guards, who immediately ushered Hogan and Newkirk over to the car and shoved them in the back seat. Then Hochstetter and the guards piled in, and they drove away.

* * *

Olsen, who was watching at the barrack's door, let the rest of the men know when Major Hochstetter's car had gone. Everyone had been speechless after Hogan and Newkirk left: glancing at each other in disbelief. Carter plopped down at the table and dropped his hands on top of it; clasping them together. "This isn't happening…this _can't _be happening," he murmured to himself.

LeBeau sat down across from him, looking at him with pain-filled eyes. "But it _is _happening, mon ami, and we have to be strong, now…perhaps, stronger than we've ever been."

Kinch joined them; sitting next to Carter. "Louis's right," he said, reaching over and placing his hand on Carter's shoulder, "We've got to hold it together."

They sat there for a few moments, each trying to come to terms with the loss of the two men in their own way, when Carter suddenly piped up. "There's got to be a way to save them. I know if the colonel was here, and it was one of us,_ he_ wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to save us!"

LeBeau's eyes filled with hope. "He's right," he said, looking at Kinch, "There has to be some way to get them away from Hochstetter!"

Kinch sighed, his brow furrowing while he contemplated the possibilities. "It'd be tricky," he murmured as he thought, "We can't just waltz in there wearing German uniforms and hand them false transfer papers; Hochstetter would never fall for it. Besides, he knows what we look like."

"Maybe we can get Burkhalter to change his mind about letting Hochstetter question them?" Carter suggested.

"Maybe, but that might take too long."

"Anything we do might take too long!" LeBeau exclaimed in frustration.

Carter's eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, I know! Hochstetter's probably going to use that drug again, right?"

"Right," Kinch answered.

"Well, what if we could get rid of it, somehow; or switch it with something that won't hurt the colonel or make him violent?"

LeBeau looked doubtful. "And just how are we going to do that?"

Carter's face fell. "I haven't figured that part out, yet."

Kinch was thinking furiously. "If we could get a man in there, posing as a scientist, maybe get rid of one of the other scientists and send our guy in as a replacement – "

"That's a great idea!" Carter cut in, his enthusiasm returning.

"Oui," LeBeau replied, "But what happens, then? Won't Hochstetter just go back to using his old methods?"

"Well, maybe by then we can get Burkhalter to change his mind," Carter said.

"It might buy us some time, anyway," Kinch remarked. "At the very least, it would keep Hochstetter from drugging the colonel too much. I say it's worth a shot."

LeBeau nodded in agreement, while Carter exclaimed, "Let's do it!"

Kinch was already on his feet and heading for the false-bottom bunk. "I'll let London know what's going on, and then I'm gonna contact the Underground and see if they can find out who's working on that drug." Before he hit the lever to raise the bunk, he looked back at Carter and LeBeau. "We still need to get ready to evacuate; like the colonel said, 'just in case'. You two can start letting the Barracks' leaders know. Carter, how are we fixed for explosives?"

"Oh, I've got plenty," Carter answered.

"Enough to blow the tunnels?"

"Yes, sir! Uh, I mean, Kinch."

Kinch grinned at him. "Good. Okay, fellas, let's get busy."

* * *

The drive to Gestapo Headquarters was made in silence. Hogan and Newkirk sat in the back seat, both of them trying to mentally steel themselves for what was to come. Hochstetter sat in the front passenger seat, wondering how Hogan had found out he'd drugged him. One of the guards was driving, and the other sat in the back with the two prisoners, watching them closely while keeping his gun aimed loosely in their direction.

All too soon, it seemed, the car pulled up in front of the old, weathered two-story brick building the Gestapo used for their local headquarters. There were offices on both the main and second floors, and a fairly large number of interrogation cells in the basement. After the men got out of the car, Hogan and Newkirk were led to one of those cells and roughly pushed inside. Hochstetter followed, flanked by his armed guards. He looked at the handcuffed American colonel and smiled. "I've waited a long time for this, Hogan."

"If this is how you treat guests, I'm not surprised no one wants to visit you," Hogan quipped.

Hochstetter's smile vanished. He turned his head to look at Newkirk. "Tell me, Hogan, what happened to your corporal, here?" he asked as he walked over to him.

"You should know," Hogan retorted.

Hochstetter glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. "And just how would _I_ know?" He turned his attention back to Newkirk. "It appears someone beat him up. Tsk, tsk. You should take better care of your men, Hogan."

"You_ know_ what happened!" Hogan yelled, "You're the one who drugged me! You knew I'd…" He stopped; suddenly realizing he couldn't bring himself to admit to Hochstetter that Newkirk's injuries were his fault.

Hochstetter; however, took it as a confession. "_You_ did this?" he asked in mock surprise, staring at the colorful bruises on the left side of Newkirk's face. "My, my, Colonel, if this is how you treat your men, they must be thrilled to have you gone."

Newkirk's eyes flashed with anger. "You ruddy bastard!"

With almost lightning speed, Hochstetter's hand flew through the air and connected with Newkirk's face; smacking him squarely on top of the bruises he already had there. Newkirk yelped and stumbled backwards; his eyes involuntarily snapping shut from the pain.

"There will be no name-calling in here!" Hochstetter yelled, then, dropping his voice a little, added, "Except by me."

"You keep your hands off him!" Hogan shouted.

Hochstetter turned towards him. But, instead of appearing angry, his expression was calm. "I think your corporal has more injuries than just the ones on his face," he said, "Perhaps I need to take a look." He motioned to one of the guards, who walked over to Newkirk. He gave the guard a nod, and the man circled behind Newkirk and unlocked his cuffs. One more nod from Hochstetter, and the guard stepped back; raising his gun and aiming it at the Englishman. The other guard who was still standing near Hogan raised his gun as well; only he aimed it at the colonel.

Newkirk brought his hands forward, eyeing Hochstetter warily. The Gestapo Major stared back coolly; then snapped at him, "Take off your shirt!"

Newkirk's eyes widened. He glanced over at Hogan, who was seething. "I told you to leave him alone!" Hogan yelled.

"No, Hogan, you told me to keep my hands off him. I'm not touching him, am I?" Hochstetter glanced at him and smiled.

"I'm warning you…"

They all heard the metal click as the guard pointing the gun at Hogan removed the safety catch.

"Hogan, you are in no position to threaten me," Hochstetter sneered. Then he looked back at Newkirk. "Take off your shirt…Now!"

Newkirk slowly removed his shirt, pulling it gingerly over his aching face. Hochstetter stared at him; studying his injuries. After a few moments he walked up and, without warning, grabbed the bandage on his shoulder and ripped it off. Newkirk began to bring his hands up, and the guard watching him removed the safety on his gun.

Newkirk put his hands back down, and Hochstetter stepped back. "So, in addition to hitting him and trying to strangle him, it looks like you stabbed him, too." He looked over at Hogan and smiled. "I'm impressed, Colonel; you did a rather good job. Maybe you should work for the Gestapo."

Hogan, his face filled with rage, took a step towards him. The man guarding him jabbed his side with the business end of his gun, and shouted at him to back up. Hogan hesitated; glaring at Hochstetter. Then he glanced at Newkirk, who was eyeing him nervously, and he reluctantly backed up.

Hochstetter smiled triumphantly. "You may get dressed, Corporal," he said, glancing at Newkirk.

Newkirk was quick to comply. He slipped his shirt back on, and with a nod from Hochstetter, the guard cuffed the Englishman's hands behind his back once again.

"Take him," Hochstetter ordered the guard, who grabbed Newkirk's arm and began to lead him out of the cell.

Hogan's gut tightened. "Wait, where are you taking Newkirk?"

Hochstetter walked over to Hogan as the guard left with Newkirk, shutting the door behind him.

"Don't worry, Hogan, you will see him again, soon."

The door opened again, and two more guards walked in, carrying a chair. They were followed by a man wearing a white lab coat. "Ah, Zimmer, right on time," Hochstetter said.

Zimmer nodded, looking nervously at the Gestapo Major.

"Did you bring it?" Hochstetter asked.

"Yes, Major," Zimmer answered, holding up a syringe.

Hogan's gut lurched. "What's that?" he asked, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.

Hochstetter smiled. "I think you know." He glanced at the guards, who set the chair down in the middle of the room and then walked over and grabbed Hogan, hauling him over to it. One of the guards removed his handcuffs, and they forced him into the chair. They tied one of his wrists to the arm of the chair; leaving his other arm free. Then they took up positions on either side of him.

Hochstetter walked up and reached down to unbutton the cuff of Hogan's sleeve on his free arm. Hogan yanked his arm away, and Hochstetter looked at him angrily. "If you don't hold still, I will do this to Newkirk, instead."

Hogan's eyes widened slightly, and he stilled. Hochstetter unbuttoned his sleeve, and pushed it up his arm. He glanced over at Zimmer and nodded.

Zimmer walked over and, while Hochstetter held Hogan's arm, he swabbed the spot in the crook of his arm and injected him with the contents of the syringe. Then Zimmer stepped back, and Hochstetter, after releasing Hogan's arm, said, "Thank you, Zimmer, you may go."

"Yes, Major," Zimmer replied, relief evident in his voice. He turned and hurried out of the cell.

Hochstetter glanced at the guards, and they tied Hogan's free arm to the chair. Then he looked at Hogan expectantly.

"Now, what?" Hogan asked, fear welling up inside him.

Hochstetter smiled. "Now, we wait."


	8. Once Beaten, Twice Shy

A/N: Warning for violence.

**Chapter 8**

Newkirk sat on the narrow cot in the cell where he'd been brought a few minutes earlier, staring vacantly at a spot on the middle of the floor. The guard had removed his handcuffs before leaving, and he was leaning forward, resting his arms on his thighs; absently rubbing his raw wrists. His face still stung where Hochstetter had hit him, and the area around the stitches on his shoulder was sore from the major yanking the bandage off so roughly. The aspirin he'd taken earlier in the day had long since worn off; what little help they'd given him for his throbbing head was gone.

But his discomfort was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was consumed with worry for Hogan, and what Hochstetter might be doing to him this very minute. Was he beating him? Torturing him? Drugging him? He feared them all, but the last one scared him the most. What was he supposed to do if Hogan attacked him again? He didn't want to fight him, but he didn't want to get killed by him, either. _Blimey, I 'ate this! Why did Hochstetter 'ave to go and drug the colonel in the first place? I knew he was bad, but I didn't know he was this ruddy evil!_

He let out a sigh and glanced around the cell he was in now. The other cell had been completely enclosed; with only a small window on the door to see inside. This one was like the ones in the basement of the cooler; all metal bars. He had a feeling they'd bring Hogan here, when they were ready. _Easier to watch us fight,_ he thought angrily.

If only he'd worn his jacket; he'd have his lock picks and pencil sharpener with him. But he'd left it in the barracks; he hadn't had time to grab it. He sighed again and returned his gaze to the floor. It wouldn't have mattered, anyway. They would have found them when they searched him.

He glanced at his watch and then picked a spot on the far wall to stare at. _Wish I knew what the bloody 'ell was goin' on, _he thought; then shifted on the cot, trying to make himself a little more comfortable. This was probably the only respite he was going to get, and he decided he better make the most of it.

* * *

"Hogan, there is still time. Tell me what I want to know, and I will let you and the Englander go," Hochstetter said, trying to get Hogan to confess before the drug took effect.

"You don't really expect me to believe that, do you?" Hogan shot back. He was beginning to feel funny; almost drunk. "You're not gonna let us leave here alive."

"If you_ don't_ tell me what I want to know, you and your corporal will not leave here alive," Hochstetter countered.

"Oh? And just what are you gonna do about it?" Hogan's head was getting fuzzy, and he blinked a few times to clear it.

Hochstetter smiled. "Just tell me that you're Papa Bear, and you can go."

"Papa Bear?" Hogan repeated, sounding confused. "Oh, okay, I gotcha." He winked at Hochstetter. "I'm Papa Bear."

"Yes, Hogan, you're Papa Bear," Hochstetter repeated, urging him to continue.

Hogan smiled. "And you're Mama Bear," he said, looking at the Gestapo Major, then he glanced at one of the guards, "And you're Baby Bear!" He laughed; then he looked back at Hochstetter. "But, who's going to play Goldilocks? We need a girl for that, don't we?" His eyes suddenly widened with excitement. "Say, you got any girls around here?"

Hochstetter frowned. "No, Hogan. Now, tell me about your operation."

Hogan became indignant. "I'm not gonna tell you how I operate! Get your own girl!"

"Bah! This is going nowhere!" Hochstetter looked at his guards. "You can untie him now. I think it's time for him to rejoin his corporal."

The guards stepped up and untied Hogan's arms. They pulled him to his feet and held onto him to keep him steady. "Do you want me to handcuff him, Herr Major?" one of the guards asked.

Hogan chuckled. "I had this girlfriend, once. She had this set of handcuffs, and she used to – "

"No, it's not necessary," Hochstetter brusquely cut him off, "Just take him to the other cell."

The guards helped him out the door and down the hallway. Hochstetter followed; hoping he still might get something useful out of Corporal Newkirk. They reached the cell that Newkirk was occupying and opened the door. Then the guards shoved Hogan inside; quickly shutting and locking the door behind him.

Hogan teetered, and Newkirk jumped off the cot where he'd been sitting and rushed over to him. "Are you all right, gov'nor?" he asked worriedly, grabbing him before he fell over.

Hogan immediately latched onto him, slinging his arm around the corporal's shoulder. "Newkirk! Fancy meeting you here!" He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered loudly, "The Major here's gonna get us some girls…you want one?"

Newkirk looked confused for a moment; then, remembering how Hogan was acting when he returned to the barracks the previous evening, he turned his head and glared at Hochstetter. "Bloody 'ell, you did it, didn't you? You drugged 'im again!"

"I drugged him, yes," Hochstetter replied coolly, "And this particular drug, I'm told, can lead to violent behavior." He stared calculatingly into Newkirk's eyes. "I would be happy to remove you from the cell; all you have to do is tell me about Papa Bear."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Newkirk replied, his expression remaining unchanged.

"Papa Bear!" Hogan exclaimed; then looked over at Hochstetter, "Hey, Mama Bear, I'm still waiting on Goldilocks…" Hogan blinked a few times and made a face. "Ooh, I'm not feeling so good…" His voice trailed off as he raised his hand to his head.

A stab of fear shot through Newkirk. "'Ere, sir, why don't you sit down?" he said, leading Hogan over to the cot. _Maybe it won't hit 'im like it did last night,_ he thought, desperately trying to cling to some thread of hope, _maybe he won't get violent; maybe he'll just pass out, nice and quiet-like…_

Hogan groaned and looked around the cell. "Where the hell am I?" he said, looking confused. He looked at Newkirk suspiciously. "What are you doing here?"

The last shred of hope that Newkirk was holding onto quickly vanished. _Blimey, it's hittin' 'im fast…must 'ave been a stronger dose._

"This is your last chance, Corporal," Hochstetter announced from the safety of the hallway, "Cooperate, and I will have you moved to another cell."

Newkirk looked at him; pure hatred emanating from his eyes. "You're a bloody monster!" he spat.

Hochstetter remained impassive. "Very well, have it your way."

Newkirk turned back just in time to see Hogan rising from the cot. "I asked you a question," Hogan said in a low voice; then began to advance on Newkirk. "What are you doing here? What do you want from me?"

Newkirk took a step back. "Colonel, I don't want anythin' from you. Now, why don't you go back and sit down, and I'll go to the other side of the room, and nothin' will 'appen."

"Yeah, until you attack me when I'm not looking!" Hogan exclaimed. Before Newkirk could take another step away from him, he reached out and grabbed the front of the Englishman's shirt. "Maybe I'll take care of you, before you take care of me!" he shouted at him.

Newkirk brought his arms up and placed his hands on Hogan's chest. "Colonel, don't do this, please!" he pleaded frantically, while trying to push Hogan away.

Hogan's eyes glazed over with rage. He balled his right hand into a fist and, with all his might, punched Newkirk in the face. His knuckles connected with the bruises that were already there, and Newkirk's cheek split open; blood spewing out of the jagged tear in his flesh.

Newkirk cried out in pain; his head jerking to the side. His eyes involuntarily shut, but he snapped them open quickly; just in time to see Hogan raising his arm for another blow. He pushed hard against Hogan's chest; forcing him to let go of his shirt and take a few steps back.

Enraged, Hogan walked up and punched Newkirk in the gut, just below his stomach. Newkirk doubled over, and Hogan grabbed his shoulder and brought up his fist; punching him hard again in roughly the same area, the force of it almost lifting Newkirk's feet off the ground.

Newkirk suddenly jerked away from him and drew back his arm. With all his strength he punched Hogan in the face; splitting his lip and causing him to stumble backwards. While Hogan was trying to regain his balance, Newkirk threw another punch, hitting him in his gut, this time. He was about to hit him again, when Hogan charged at him, yelling, "I'm gonna kill you!"

Before Newkirk could react, Hogan had thrown another punch, this time hitting him on his shoulder where the stab wound was. The force of the blow broke open the stitches, and fresh blood began to seep into Newkirk's shirt, creating a widening circle of red. Newkirk cried out and tried to step away from Hogan, but the colonel grabbed him and pushed him up against the wall. He reached for Newkirk's throat, once again intent on strangling him. But Newkirk knocked his hand away before he could get a grip, and ducked out from between Hogan and the wall.

Hogan whirled around and, clasping his hands tightly together, slammed them down on Newkirk's back. Newkirk went down, falling to his hands and knees. Hogan kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking him over to his side. He kicked him again, and Newkirk yelped loudly.

Before Hogan could kick him again, Newkirk had drawn his knees up to protect his middle, and was now lying on the floor in a fetal position. "Get up!" Hogan yelled at him, kicking him in the shin. Newkirk whimpered, but didn't budge. Just as Hogan drew his foot back for another kick, Newkirk reached out and grabbed the ankle of the foot Hogan was standing on, and yanked it forward. Hogan lost his balance and fell backwards, slamming his head on the small shelf that happened to be jutting out from the wall directly behind him. He landed on the floor, unconscious.

Hochstetter was watching the fight between Hogan and Newkirk with glee. He was fully expecting Hogan to win, and wondered briefly how the colonel was going to feel when he found out he'd severely injured – perhaps even killed – one of his men. He saw Newkirk curl up on the floor, and silently urged Hogan to finish him off. But when Newkirk grabbed Hogan's foot and caused him to fall, he knew the fight was over. He also knew Hogan would be more useful to him if he were still alive, so he turned to one of his guards and shouted, "Go get the doctor and bring him here immediately!"

When the doctor arrived, Hochstetter let him into the cell. He followed closely, bringing the guards with him, motioning for them to watch the prisoners. The doctor knelt first by Hogan; checking him over. The colonel's pulse was strong but rapid, he was breathing rather fast, and perspiring heavily. His eyes appeared dilated, and he had a big knot on the back of his head. "Was this man drugged?" the doctor asked as he finished his examination.

"Yes…XN-5," Hochstetter answered.

The doctor nodded. He was familiar with that particular drug, having had to examine several prisoners in the past few weeks who had been injected with it. "This man will recover," he informed Hochstetter, "I would say he has a concussion, but it does not appear too serious. He will be unconscious for several hours, at least."

"Will he still be under the influence of the drug when he wakes up?" Hochstetter asked.

The doctor shook his head. "No, Major, it will have worn off by then."

Hochstetter cursed under his breath. _I should have known the Englander would fight dirty! Next time I'll have him handcuffed!_

The doctor checked Hogan's pulse once more; then stood up and looked over at Newkirk.

Newkirk blinked back; pain etched on his face. He had uncurled his body slightly, but was still lying on his right side on the floor; his left arm wrapped around his stomach. Blood stained the upper front of his shirt, and the left side of his face was bloody and swollen. His breathing was shallow; every inhale seemed to register as agony on his face.

The doctor began to walk over to examine him, when Hochstetter placed his hand on the doctor's arm. "That's not necessary; I am not concerned with the Englander's injuries," he said.

The doctor glanced at Hochstetter with obvious irritation. "I would still like to examine him," he stated curtly, and without waiting for a reply, stepped away from Hochstetter and over to Newkirk. He knelt down and gave him a cursory glance; then said, "I'm going to roll you onto your back, now."

Newkirk didn't say anything; just nodded.

The doctor gently grabbed his arm and pushed him to his back. Newkirk moaned and shut his eyes tight, keeping his knees bent to ease the pain in his chest a little. He tried to inhale; his breath hitching. "Blimey, it 'urts," he whispered.

The doctor nodded. He lifted Newkirk's shirt and checked his injuries; first noticing the remnants of stitches surrounding the wound on his shoulder, which was still oozing blood. He then examined his chest, already having a pretty good idea what was causing Newkirk's labored breathing. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for; two cracked ribs on his left side.

"All right, doctor, you've examined him," Hochstetter spoke up impatiently, "It's time to go."

The doctor turned his head and looked at Hochstetter with annoyance. "As soon as I bandage his wound, Major."

"It's not necessary, doctor," Hochstetter replied, equally annoyed.

The doctor sighed. "Major, you know I have never questioned the methods you use for your interrogations; however, I am still a doctor. Now, let me bandage this man's wound, and then I will be more than happy to leave." He turned back to Newkirk, bending over him to clean the stab wound and place a bandage on it; taping it down tightly. He also cleaned the wound on his face, noticing with relief that it had stopped bleeding. Then he pulled Newkirk's shirt down and said, "You have two cracked ribs; that is why you are having trouble breathing. Just lie here and try not to move too much."

"Thanks, doc," Newkirk uttered; then grimaced as another stab of pain hit him in the side when he breathed in.

The doctor nodded slightly. He stood up and looked at Hochstetter. "All right, Major, I'm finished."

"Fine," Hochstetter said impatiently, "Let's go." He headed out of the cell, followed by the doctor and, lastly, the two guards.

Newkirk listened as their footsteps faded down the hall. Then he turned his head to look at Hogan, who was still sprawled out on the floor near the wall. A vision of him waking up and coming after him filled his mind, and suddenly he was overwhelmed with fear. _Cor! Did they 'ave to leave so soon? _he thought to himself; then, realizing what he was thinking, mentally shook his head and tried to reign in his fear. _ The doc did say he'd be out for a long time, didn't he? And he'd be back to normal when he wakes up; so, I 'ave nothin' to worry about. Right?_

He let out a sigh, and then instantly regretted it when his side responded with a sharp stab of pain. _Bloody 'ell, this couldn't be any worse! _He tried to roll onto his side, but the movement was too painful. _Guess I'm ruddy stuck like this, _he thought, closing his eyes in frustration. Then his eyes popped open as a fresh wave of fear coursed through him. _No, I can't be closin' me eyes; I've got to keep an eye on the colonel. If he wakes up too soon… _He shuddered at the thought, which prompted another painful reminder of why he needed to be still. _Blimey, if I make it through this night, it'll be a ruddy miracle!_

_

* * *

_

Carter was sitting at the table; an unfinished game of solitaire spread out before him. He'd laid out the cards a while ago, thinking it might help take his mind off what happened, but then the cards started reminding him of Newkirk, and he ended up just staring at them; lost in thought.

LeBeau was cleaning up from the dinner he'd made; not that anyone had been in much of a mood to eat. He finished drying the last of the pans and hung it up over the stove. Then he walked over and plopped down across from Carter, sighing when he glanced at the cards on the table.

Just then the false-bottom bunk opened, and Kinch climbed out. He strode over to the table and sat down next to LeBeau. "I just got a message from the Underground," he said, "They're going to do some snooping around tonight, and should be able to find out who's working on that drug for the Gestapo. They'll contact us tomorrow to let us know."

"Tomorrow?" LeBeau replied in frustration, "Colonel Hogan and Newkirk could be in trouble tonight!"

"I know, Louis," Kinch said, "But it's the best they can do. We're going to have to be patient."

"Yeah, but," Carter started to object; then he saw Kinch's expression and let out a sigh. "You think they're okay?" he asked quietly.

Kinch looked at him, wanting to reassure him that they were just fine, but knowing it was probably a lie. "I don't know, Andrew," he replied truthfully, "But one thing I'm pretty sure of; they're both still alive. Hochstetter's not going to get rid of them until he gets one of them to talk." From the look on Carter's face, he knew that wasn't what the sergeant wanted to hear. He leaned forward and gave him a small smile. "But we'll get them out of there before that happens, won't we?"

Carter stared at Kinch, wanting desperately to believe.

"Oui," LeBeau added, picking up on Kinch's cue, "Le Colonel and Newkirk will be back here before you know it!"

Carter glanced between the two men for a moment. Then he sighed and began to scoop up the cards. "I hope you're right," he said as he tapped the deck on the table, "I really hope you're right."


	9. Waking Up is Hard to Do

A/N: I just want to say thanks so much for all of your reviews; they're very encouraging!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Newkirk lay on the floor of the cell, concentrating on his breathing, periodically shutting his eyes tight when the pain from his injuries became too much; opening them again when he felt himself beginning to drift away. He was utterly exhausted, but he was too scared to let himself fall asleep. Over the past hour or so, Hogan had let out a few low groans, and each time he did, white-hot fear had shot through the Englishman. He was terrified of Hogan waking up before the drug wore off; there was no way he could defend himself from another attack. His only hope was for Hogan to remain unconscious long enough to sleep it off.

Of course, he was worried about the colonel, too. He didn't know how badly Hogan was injured, and he wasn't in any condition to try to find out. He'd heard the doctor say it was a concussion, but that it didn't look too serious, so he'd just have to take his word for it for now. But that wasn't the only thing – what about the drug itself? What was it doing to the colonel? Hogan had been drugged twice now in a twenty-four hour period; surely it couldn't be good for his system. Did it have any long-term effects? Could it damage him permanently? Make him suffer from relapses, like Louis mentioned?

Just thinking about his friends back at the stalag sent another stab of pain through him; only this one wasn't physical. _Blimey, what I wouldn't give to be back at camp; playin' Gin with Andrew,_ _or teasin' Louis about 'is cookin', or swappin' jokes with Kinch... _He stared up at the ceiling; his chest tightening. _Or just_ _lyin' in me own bunk, listenin' to me mates rattle on about nothin'… the gov'nor comin' out of his office, smilin' and tellin' us we did a good job on our last mission… _His eyes started to water, but he blinked it away, and he turned his head to look over at Hogan. _This ain't right, _he thought, his anger rising, _what that bastard Hochstetter did… It just ain't right! _

Hogan shifted slightly just then, letting out a quiet moan, and Newkirk's eyes flew wide as panic swept through him. _No, please…don't let 'im wake up now! _He lay there, staring at the colonel, his heart racing, his body tensing; unconsciously holding his breath as fear overwhelmed him. He watched and waited, and when he was pretty sure Hogan wasn't going to wake up, he slowly calmed down, making his body relax, forcing himself to breathe normally; trying to ignore the pain that accompanied each inhale.

He turned his head to stare back up at the ceiling; wanting to sigh, but knowing it would just make his left side hurt more. He blinked a few times; then closed his eyes, trying once again to ignore the pain. _I'm so ruddy tired… _His thoughts slipped away, his mind drifting into unconsciousness, and this time, he didn't try to fight it. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

* * *

Hours later, Hogan stirred. He began to wake up; a frown forming on his face as he slowly became aware of the throbbing pain in his head. He blinked his eyes open and squinted into the darkness, trying to figure out where he was. As he sat up, his head launched into a new round of thumping, pounding pain, and he groaned; reaching up to discover a large knot on the back of his head.

He sat on the floor for a few minutes, waiting until the hammering in his head diminished to a more tolerable level. Then he glanced slowly around the room, the tiny glow of light coming from further down the hallway allowing his eyes to pick up vague shapes in the darkness. He realized he was in a holding cell, and for an instant, thought it was the cooler. Then he remembered being taken to Gestapo Headquarters, and Hochstetter injecting him with something, and Newkirk being taken away…

_Newkirk! I've got to find out what happened to him! _Hogan tried to stand up, and immediately sat down again when a wave of dizziness and nausea swept through him. He sat for a few more minutes, and tried again. This time he made it to his feet, but he had to hold onto the wall for a few moments, as another bout of dizziness hit him.

At last he felt steady enough to move. He started to shuffle slowly forward, still trying to see in the dark cell. He put his arms out in front of him; not wanting to run into anything. Suddenly his foot bumped into something soft, which proceeded to let out a moan. He quickly dropped to his knees and realized it was Newkirk.

"Newkirk," Hogan uttered, reaching over and placing his hand on the corporal's shoulder, "Are you all right?"

Newkirk moaned again, and blinked a few times. He looked up into Hogan's face, and his eyes popped wide; terror emanating from them. "Colonel, please, no more," he pleaded, just above a whisper, "Please, don't kill me, I'm not after you, I swear!"

Hogan's brow furrowed with confusion. "Newkirk, I don't want to kill you; I just want to know what happened to you," he said; then added quietly, "And to me."

Newkirk, still consumed with fear, started to hyperventilate; the pain in his side growing worse each time he tried to take a breath. Hogan saw him struggling to breathe and, alarmed now, he grabbed his arm; rolling him gently onto his right side. "Relax, Newkirk," he murmured soothingly, reaching behind him to rub his back, "You've got to slow your breathing down. Try taking nice, slow, deep breaths."

Newkirk initially tensed when Hogan grabbed his arm, instinctively wanting to pull away from him. But by now he was becoming dizzy, his hands had begun tingling, and his heart was racing; although, from fear or lack of oxygen, he didn't know which. He listened to Hogan talking to him, felt the colonel's hand moving up and down his back, and finally realized that Hogan was trying to help him. He began to let himself relax, forcing himself to slow his breathing, trying to inhale as much as the pain in his side would allow. Soon it became easier to breathe, his heartbeat returned to normal, and the dizziness faded.

Hogan continued to rub the Englishman's back, speaking to him reassuringly, until he noticed Newkirk had his breathing under control. Then, letting his hand rest on the corporal's back, Hogan asked, "Feeling better?"

"Yes, sir, I think so," Newkirk replied, tiredly.

Hogan gently rolled him onto his back and leaned in slightly, trying to get a better look at him. The faint glow of light coming from the hall wasn't enough to allow him to make out much in the darkness; beyond the fact that it was Newkirk. "How badly are you hurt?" he asked, wishing he could see.

It was as if someone had read his mind. The lights outside the cell turned on; no doubt heralding the start of the work day. Hogan shut his eyes tight for a moment; the sudden brightness causing the throbbing in his head to increase. Then he blinked a few times, and as his eyes adjusted to the light, his headache eased up. He looked down at his corporal and gasped. "Newkirk! What the hell did they do to you?" he shouted; surprise and anger on his face.

Newkirk flinched; then he looked up at Hogan and said, "Nothin', sir… _You_ did this to me."

Hogan's expression turned to shock. "_I_ did this…?"

Newkirk's eyes narrowed; anger suddenly flooding through him. "Oh, come on, Colonel!" he snapped, "You knew this was their bloody plan! What did you think was goin' to 'appen?"

Hogan, taken aback, tried to respond. "Newkirk, I…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Newkirk replied sarcastically, "You're bleedin' sorry, and you don't remember, and you'd never do this to me… I've 'eard it all before, _gov'nor_."

"Dammit, Newkirk, what do you want me to say?" Hogan retorted, becoming angry himself, now, "You _know_ I was drugged!"

"Yes, I know, but, beggin' the Colonel's pardon, you're not the one lyin' 'ere with two ruddy cracked ribs."

Hogan's anger quickly deflated, his gut now twisting with guilt. "My God, is that what I did?"

"In addition to me face, and me chest, and the ruddy bruises on me middle…" Newkirk's voice trailed off when he noticed Hogan's face. The colonel had paled, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

Suddenly Hogan jumped to his feet, swaying for a moment from the dizziness and renewed throbbing in his head that hit him when he stood up. He stumbled over to the bucket in the corner and threw up. When he was through, he walked back over by Newkirk. "Sorry about that," he apologized.

"It's all right, sir," Newkirk replied; then he smirked. "Think you could do that again on Hochstetter when he comes back?"

Hogan grinned. "I'll see what I can do." His grin faded as he stared down at Newkirk. "I think the cot would be more comfortable than the floor," he remarked.

Newkirk looked up at him. "I don't think I can bloody move at the moment, Colonel."

"I can take you over to it," Hogan offered.

Newkirk eyed him warily for a moment; then nodded.

Hogan crouched down and began to slide his arms underneath the Englishman, another pang of guilt hitting him when he felt Newkirk tense up. He steadied himself – setting his feet firmly under him – and then lifted Newkirk up as gently as he could. Newkirk winced; letting out a loud groan, and placed a hand over his injured side. Hogan, his head pounding like the waves crashing against the rocks during a storm, hurried over to the cot and deposited Newkirk on it. Then he stepped quickly over to the bucket and retched.

Hogan finished and straightened up; pressing one hand against the wall and wrapping his other arm around his stomach. He stood there for a few minutes, until he was sure the nausea had passed. Then he turned and slowly walked over to the cot.

"You keep that up… there won't be… any left for Hochstetter," Newkirk stammered in a quiet, breathless voice.

Hogan heard him struggling to speak, saw how pale he was, and instantly became concerned. "Newkirk, are you okay?" He reached for him, and the Englishman flinched. His gut lurched as he drew his hand back; he hated seeing Newkirk afraid of him again.

"I'll be… all right," Newkirk replied, pausing every few words or so while he concentrated on his breathing, "All that movin'… left me a bit… winded."

"Shh, don't talk," Hogan said, "Just relax and catch your breath."

Newkirk nodded. Hogan watched him for a moment; then wandered over to the bars that faced the hallway. He grabbed two of the bars and pressed his face against them, trying to look down the hall, but he couldn't see very far. Then he leaned back a little; just happening to glance at his hands, and noticed the back of his right one was stained with dried blood. He stared at it in horror, knowing it had to be Newkirk's, and, at that moment, the reality finally sunk in – it really _was_ him who had beaten Newkirk up; messed up his face, cracked his ribs, pummeled his body – and God knew what else.

He looked over at his English corporal; his gut twisting into a huge knot of guilt. _No wonder he's scared of me,_ Hogan thought, _I must have hurt him pretty bad. _He inwardly sighed; wishing he could make things better, wishing he could undo what he'd done, wishing he could get Newkirk out of there and back to the relative safety of Stalag thirteen. He would gladly face Hochstetter alone, if it meant saving his corporal.

But he knew that wasn't going to happen. Hochstetter had no intention of letting either of them survive, did he? And, to add insult to injury, the Gestapo Major was turning him into his own personal instrument of destruction! Anger and hatred welled up inside him at the thought, and he gripped the bars of the cell tightly until his knuckles turned white.

He stared vacantly out into the hallway, willing himself to calm down. He couldn't afford to lose control; not when he needed to be helping Newkirk. He let go of the bars and walked back to the cot, thankful to see that the Englishman was breathing easier and his color had returned. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," Newkirk answered, flashing a small smile at him. "How are _you_ feelin', gov'nor?" he reciprocated.

Hogan smiled back. "Better." He noticed how tired Newkirk looked, and said, "Why don't you close your eyes and get some rest? I'll keep an eye out for any visitors."

Newkirk knew who Hogan was referring to, and he wasn't too keen on facing the major at the moment. "Well, I am a bit tired," he replied, and then, despite the pain, let out a yawn.

"I thought so," Hogan grinned. "Get some sleep."

Newkirk nodded. He was about to close his eyes, when Hogan said, "Oh, before you do, you think you could tell me what happened?"

Newkirk frowned at him. "You sure you want to know, sir?"

After hearing Newkirk's response, Hogan found himself wavering; wondering now if he really _did_ want to know. "Well, I _am_ curious about this knot on my head," he answered at last, reaching up behind his head and gingerly touching the bump back there.

Newkirk took a few steady breaths; then proceeded to fill Hogan in; giving a blow-by-blow description of the fight, leaving out most of Hogan's verbal threats, and ending with the doctor's visit. When he was finished, Hogan had paled again.

"I could have killed you," Hogan said quietly.

"You sure as bloody 'ell tried!" Newkirk exclaimed, his voice shaky. Just thinking about it had brought back all the pain and terror Hogan had put him through.

"Newkirk…" Hogan started to sit down on the edge of the cot, but stopped himself when he saw Newkirk shrink away from him; the Englishman's eyes flashing with fear. He stood up and sighed in frustration. "You don't have to be afraid of me; the drug's worn off."

"I know that, Colonel," Newkirk sighed, suddenly feeling guilty, "It's just…well, I keep seein' your face; you know, when you were tryin' to kill me." He saw the guilt and shame emanating from Hogan's eyes and added, "It's just goin' to take me a bit of time, that's all." Then he lowered his voice and said softly, "I'm sorry, gov'nor."

"Hey, you've got nothing to apologize for, Newkirk," Hogan firmly replied. "I'm the one who put you through all this."

Newkirk shook his head. "No, sir; Hochstetter's the one, what put us both through this. _He's_ the one we should be blamin'."

Hogan nodded. "You're right, and believe me, I do," he said, anger lacing his voice. "If I ever get my hands on him, I'll knock him into the next century!"

"They won't want 'im, either," Newkirk quipped.

A smile broke out on Hogan's face. "Yeah, you're right; they'd probably just send him back."

Both men grinned at each other for a moment. Then Hogan sighed and said, "You better get some sleep."

"Yes, sir." Newkirk, suddenly reminded of how tired he was, let out a yawn.

Just as the Englishman closed his eyes, he heard Hogan utter softly, "I really am sorry, Newkirk."

Newkirk was about to reply, then thought better of it. He let himself relax and drift away, and before too long, he was out.

Hogan walked over to the other side of the cell and sat down on the floor. He drew his knees up and rested his arms on them while he let his thoughts take over. He still felt terrible about what he'd done, and seeing that look of fear in Newkirk's eyes every time he came near him just about broke his heart. But he couldn't blame him, could he? Not after he'd found out exactly what he'd done to him. And Newkirk had said it would take some time for him to get over it; but, how much time did they really have? How long before Hochstetter drugged him again? Newkirk would never survive another beating; of that, he was sure.

He closed his eyes tight; wishing he could figure out a way to get them back to Stalag thirteen; or, at the very least, get Newkirk back there. But he knew there wasn't; Hochstetter had them now, and he wasn't about to let either of them leave – alive. He had to admit, at least to himself, the thought of dying by Hochstetter's hand scared him. But what truly terrified him was the thought of Newkirk dying by _his_ hand, and he being powerless to stop it.

He opened his eyes and let out a huge sigh. _There's got to be a way out of this…there's just got to be! _But, deep down, he knew there wasn't, and for the first time in his life, he lost all hope.


	10. A Plan Starts to Come Together

**Chapter 10**

"Carter, have you seen Kinch?" LeBeau whispered loudly, shaking Carter's shoulder to wake him up.

"Uh… Huh?" Carter replied sleepily, blinking open his eyes.

"Have you seen Kinch?" LeBeau asked again, impatiently, "It's almost time for roll call."

Carter sat up and looked at LeBeau, who was crouched next to his bunk. "Well, did you look in the tunnel?"

"Oui," LeBeau nodded. "He wasn't sitting by the radio, where he usually is."

Carter glanced over at the door to Hogan's quarters. "Did you look in there?" he asked quietly.

Kinch, Carter and LeBeau had all been avoiding that particular room in the barracks as much as possible; not because they had to, but because it was almost too painful to go in there.

"Oui, I looked in there, too." LeBeau sighed.

Carter shrugged his shoulders. "Then I don't know what to tell you, Louis. Your guess is as good as mine."

"We have to find him!" LeBeau whispered fiercely, "Schultz will be here any minute!"

The false-bottom bunk banged open just then, and Kinch climbed out. LeBeau and Carter saw him at the same instant, and the Frenchman stood up quickly and hurried over to him as the bunk dropped back into place. "Where have you been?" he scolded, "It's almost time for roll call!"

As if on cue, the door to the barracks opened and Schultz walked in, looking tired. "Roll call! Everyone, raus!" he hollered, without his usual aplomb.

Kinch placed his hand on LeBeau's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "I'll tell you later," he promised; then went to join the others who were shuffling outside into the cold, crisp, morning air.

* * *

Roll call was a rather subdued affair. Hogan and Newkirk were noticeably absent; their empty places in line a glaring reminder that they would probably not be coming back. Schultz counted the prisoners, but when he reached the spot where the two men who should have been there weren't, he blustered something about needing to check something on the far end of the line, and moved off. Even Klink, when he finally made his appearance, didn't have much to say. He received the report from Schultz, swept his gaze briefly over the men in front of him, and then dismissed them before returning to his office.

As they walked back into the barracks, Kinch headed for the table, followed closely by LeBeau and Carter. LeBeau started in on Kinch before he could even sit down. "So, where you this morning?" he asked, frowning at him, "Don't you realize if you had been only a few seconds later – "

"Relax, Louis," Kinch cut him off as the three men took their seats, "I made it in time, didn't I?"

LeBeau glowered at him. "You still haven't answered my question."

Kinch threw up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay!" He plunked his arms down on the table, clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "Right before I was gonna sign off and come up here for roll call, I got a message from London. They said we have their permission to evacuate and shut down the operation if necessary." He glanced between LeBeau and Carter. "Did you guys get everything ready, just in case?"

The two men nodded. "Oui," LeBeau replied, "We informed all the barracks' chiefs. All we have to do is give them the word."

"And I've got the explosives all set," Carter added, "There's enough there to take out most of the tunnels." He paused for a few seconds; then asked, "You don't think we're really going to have to evacuate, do you?"

Kinch sighed. "I hope not, Andrew. I'd rather get the colonel and Newkirk away from Gestapo Headquarters...and away from Major Hochstetter."

Carter nodded enthusiastically. "So would I, boy!"

"Me, too!" LeBeau chimed in.

"Which brings me to the other part of the message," Kinch said. "They also gave us the go-ahead to nab one of the scientists and get a sample of the drug if we can, and send them both back to London."

LeBeau raised his eyebrows. "They did?"

"You sound surprised, Louis." Kinch remarked.

"Well, you know how they are, mon ami. They are not always so quick to say yes to us."

Kinch shrugged. "I guess they're pretty interested in that drug."

"What else did they say?" Carter asked.

Kinch frowned. "You're not gonna like this. They don't want us sending anyone in there to try to rescue the colonel or Newkirk. They said it's too risky."

LeBeau and Carter blurted out their protests at the same time.

"I knew it! I knew they would tell us no!"

"Geez, how can they say it's too risky? It's not any harder than anything else we've ever done!"

"Well, if they think we're just going to sit back and let Major Hochstetter kill them – "

"Louis's right! We can get them out of there ourselves!"

"Hold it, hold it!" Kinch held up his hands. When the two men had stilled, he said, "I'm with you; and we're gonna do whatever it takes to get them back. But we're gonna need help. I contacted the Underground last night – "

"That's right, you did!" Carter interrupted. "Did you hear from them yet?"

Kinch nodded. "Yes, I heard from them. In fact, that's the other reason I was late getting up here. After I told them what happened and what we had in mind, they decided to send someone here to help us. He came in through the emergency tunnel right before roll call. He's down there right now, waiting for us so we can make some plans."

"He is?" LeBeau exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Well, what are we waiting for?" He hurried over to the false-bottom bunk and hit the lever.

Kinch and Carter got up and followed him; catching up with the Frenchman just as the bunk banged open. LeBeau started down and Kinch went next. As the staff sergeant was climbing down, Carter asked, "Hey, who did they send, anyway? Anyone we know?"

Kinch smiled at him. "You'll see, Andrew." Then he disappeared from view.

Carter swung his legs over and descended into the tunnel, wondering who was waiting down there for them. After he reached the bottom and closed the bunk entrance, he turned around; his eyes instantly widening with surprise.

"Dubois! Gosh, I never expected them to send you!" (1)

* * *

Hogan was still sitting on the floor when he heard footsteps coming down the hall; getting louder as they approached. He drew himself up to a standing position; although, when he got there, his head immediately started pounding harder, and his stomach cramped in protest. He leaned against the wall; mentally fighting the pain and nausea. By the time the owners of the footsteps appeared, he felt he had himself under control.

Hochstetter walked up to the bars of the cell and peered in at the colonel. "Ah, Hogan, I see you are awake." He leaned in slightly, his eyes squinting, and said, "You don't look well at all. You must have had a rough night."

Without warning, Hogan leaped at Hochstetter, reaching through the bars to grab him, aiming for his neck. Hochstetter pulled away just in time, his eyes wide with shock.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Hogan yelled, staring daggers at the Gestapo Major.

Hochstetter, furious at being taken by surprise by Hogan for a second time, and reacting with fear –especially in front of his inferiors – turned to the guards he had brought with him and pointed at Hogan. "Handcuff that man!" he practically screamed.

The guards entered the cell, pushed Hogan roughly up against the wall, face-first, and yanked his arms behind his back. One of them produced a set of handcuffs and slapped them on the colonel's wrists. Then they released him and stood back; their guns pointed at him.

Hochstetter strode briskly into the cell. "Turn around!" he snapped.

Hogan turned around. His face was pale, and he was perspiring. His nausea had returned, and he was fighting to keep from giving in; not that he had anything left in his stomach to lose, anyway.

Hochstetter saw the expression on Hogan's face, and smirked. He motioned to the guards to take the colonel over to the bucket in the corner. Once there, Hogan leaned over and dry heaved a few times; then straightened up and let the guards lead him back towards the front of the cell.

Hochstetter raised his eyebrows in mock sympathy. "Feeling better, Hogan?"

Hogan glared at him.

"And how is your corporal doing this morning, hmm?" Hochstetter glanced around the cell, his eyes lighting on the figure stretched out on the cot. He threw a glance at one of the guards to follow, and walked over to where Newkirk lay.

Newkirk looked up at him; his face filled with contempt. He'd woken up when Hogan had yelled, and had been watching the activity occurring on the other side of the cell in silence.

"I see you're still alive, Corporal Newkirk; that is fortunate," Hochstetter said, looking down at him. He paused; then added, "Fortunate for me."

"Drop dead!" Newkirk spat.

Hochstetter's anger quickly resurfaced. "You will not speak to me that way!" he growled, and raised his hand as though to strike him.

"Leave him alone!" Hogan yelled.

Hochstetter hesitated; then he dropped his arm, turned around, and went back over to stand in front of Hogan; mindful to keep a comfortable distance away. "I suppose it's not necessary for me to discipline him, is it, Hogan?" he coolly replied, "You did such a thorough job, yourself. Why, it takes months of training for our agents to be able to inflict injuries as expertly as you. I must say it was a pleasure to watch you work."

Hogan's rage was contained only by the handcuffs holding him. He started forward, oblivious to the fact that he couldn't do much with his hands bound behind his back. He'd hardly taken a step; though, when he was met with the business end of a rifle jabbing him in the side.

"Get back!" the guard shouted.

Hogan stood there for a moment, glowering at Hochstetter, who stared back; a smug expression on his face. Then Hogan glanced behind the Major at Newkirk, and slowly stepped back.

Hochstetter smiled. "I see we understand each other, Hogan," he stated calmly. "So, is there anything you would like to tell me, before we play our little game again?"

"Only what _he_ said," Hogan tilted his chin in the direction of Newkirk.

Hochstetter frowned. "You are a very stubborn man, Hogan; but, no matter. I will get the truth from you; one way or another." He turned and walked out of the cell, nodding at his guards once he was safely on the other side of the bars.

One of the guards stepped behind Hogan and un-cuffed him, while the other kept his rifle trained on the colonel. Then the guards left the cell, shutting and locking the door behind them.

"You know," Hogan piped up before Hochstetter could leave, "If you keep pumping me full of that drug, it's probably going to kill me. I won't be much good to you, then."

Hochstetter appeared about to retort something back, when he stopped himself; seeming to contemplate for a few moments. "Perhaps," he uttered at last, nodding. Then he stared at Hogan and said, "In any case, I am giving you and your corporal the day to recover. We will start up again tonight, Ja?" He grinned maliciously at him, turned, and stomped down the hallway, his guards in tow.

As soon as Hochstetter had gone, Hogan walked over to Newkirk. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Newkirk answered. "Blimey, I 'ate that man!"

Hogan nodded. "Join the club."

Newkirk began to shift restlessly. "Say, Colonel," he said, placing his arms to either side of him on the cot and attempting to push himself up, "I'm feelin' a mite better. Suppose you could 'elp me sit up…?"

Hogan quickly leaned down and slid his arm under Newkirk's back to support him; noting with relief that the Englishman didn't tense up this time. "Newkirk, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked as he helped him to a sitting position; turning him so he could lean back against the wall. Then he straightened up; looking at him worriedly.

Newkirk grimaced and let out a groan. "Yes, sir," he blurted out as he exhaled; shutting his eyes tight. He sat for a few moments to catch his breath; then looked up at Hogan. "Got tired of bein' on me ruddy back," he muttered; gritting his teeth while waiting for the pain to subside. "And anyway, now you can sit on somethin' besides the floor, Colonel."

"You don't have to make room on that cot for me, Newkirk. I'm fine."

Newkirk couldn't help noticing that Hogan had grown pale again, and he was swaying slightly on his feet. "Oh, I wouldn't say 'fine', sir," he replied, his voice steadying as the pain lessened and his breathing returned to normal, "You're lookin' a bit unsteady, if you ask me. 'Ere," he patted his hand on the cot, "'Ave a seat, sir."

Hogan hesitated a moment; then he sat down on the cot next to Newkirk, looking at him gratefully. His dizziness had returned, his head was throbbing, and his stomach was still trying to decide whether or not to go another round.

Hogan leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes momentarily; opening them again quickly when his head started spinning more. He sighed and glanced at Newkirk. "We make quite the pair, don't we?"

"We _'ave_ 'ad better days," Newkirk replied; then his eyes widened slightly. "Say, why don't we make a break for it, gov'nor? All we 'ave to do is wait behind the door, and then when they open it, we knock 'em out and grab their guns!"

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Newkirk, you couldn't even make it to the door."

"Yeah…I suppose that would be a bit of a problem, wouldn't it, sir?"

Hogan grinned. "Well, at least we have the day off."

Newkirk shook his head. "Just our luck, ain't it? We finally get a day off, and we end up spendin' it in a bleedin' cell at ruddy Gestapo Headquarters!"

"Could be worse."

"Newkirk turned his head to stare at him. "How could it be worse?"

"We could be sharing this cell with Colonel Crittendon."

Newkirk smirked. "You're right, sir, it could be worse."

Hogan smiled; then let out a sigh and looked intensely at him. "Newkirk, whatever happens…" his voice trailed off.

"I know, sir," Newkirk said quietly, returning his gaze, "Same 'ere."

The room grew quiet as both men sat in silence, staring out into the cell, each lost in his own thoughts; wondering how and when it was going to happen, wondering how the guys back in camp would handle it, wondering how their families would react upon hearing the news, and, deep down, wishing for a miracle.

They stayed that way for a long time.

* * *

Carter stood there, smiling, as Dubois greeted him. "Ah, Carter, it is good to see you!" the Frenchman said, reaching out and shaking the sergeant's hand warmly. "Actually, the Underground didn't send me; when I heard that Colonel Hogan was in trouble, I volunteered to come."

"We are grateful for your help, mon ami," LeBeau replied enthusiastically.

Maurice Dubois glanced at the three men; his gaze coming to rest on Kinch. "So, what do you need?"

"Well, first," Kinch began, "Like I told the Underground last night; we need to find out which scientist developed the drug that Major Hochstetter gave the colonel. London wants us to nab him and send him to England."

"That I can tell you," Dubois replied. "His name is Heinrich Zimmer, and he works at Gestapo Headquarters. Several members of the Underground are already planning to watch for him when he leaves work tonight. They will capture him and bring him here."

"Gosh, that was fast!" Carter exclaimed.

Kinch nodded appreciatively. "Yes it was."

"They were glad to do it," Dubois said, "We want to help Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk any way we can."

"Thanks," Kinch replied. Carter and LeBeau nodded in agreement.

"So, are you going to send Zimmer to London right away?" Dubois asked.

"As soon as we can," Kinch answered. "In the meantime, we need to get someone in there to take his place; someone pretending to be a scientist that knows about the drug he's working on."

Dubois smiled. "And that's what you need me for."

Kinch nodded. "We need you to get a sample so we can send it to London."

"You know I am happy to help you," Dubois replied, "But I am curious; this sounds like something one of your men could do."

LeBeau shook his head. "No, mon ami... Major Hochstetter would recognize one of us."

"Ah, of course," Dubois nodded. "So, tell me, what is your plan to get Colonel Hogan and Newkirk out of there?"

Kinch, LeBeau and Carter glanced at each other. Then Carter piped up, "Well, London doesn't want us to try and save them."

Dubois' eyes flew wide. "What?" he shouted, "They can't be serious! We can't just sit back and let Major Hochstetter kill them!"

"And we're not going to," LeBeau stated firmly.

Dubois glanced at the three men. "You have a plan?"

Kinch nodded. "Yes we do, but we need you for it. It's going to be very dangerous."

Dubois smiled. "Tell me what you want me to do."

* * *

(1) The character of Maurice Dubois, a French Underground agent, appeared in three episodes in season three: _Nights In Shining Armor_, _Is General Hammerschlag Burning?_, and _A Russian Is Coming_.

A/N: I would like to thank Kirarakim for giving me the idea to use Dubois.


	11. A Switch in Time

**Chapter 11**

Hogan sat with Newkirk on the cot for a while, until his dizziness and nausea finally passed; then rose to his feet and began pacing the cell, his mind working furiously on trying to come up with a solution to their problem. Maybe he could talk Hochstetter out of drugging him again; at least, for tonight? No, that wouldn't work, he knew the Major; the routine would no doubt continue until Hochstetter got what he wanted from him – or until it killed him – whichever came first. Maybe he could try for one of the guard's rifles? No, that could result in Newkirk accidentally getting shot. Of course, if Hochstetter took him to a different cell, he could try it then…the only problem there, being, they always kept him handcuffed, so that wouldn't work, either.

Hogan paced some more; then he paused and glanced at his English corporal as a thought crossed his mind; one he'd been subconsciously avoiding. What if he could get Newkirk to just kill him; right here, right now? That would certainly stop Hochstetter in his tracks! But, then the Gestapo Major would most likely take it out on Newkirk, and there was no telling how much more torture the Englishman would have to endure because of it.

Another thought hit him just then; the darkest one of all… He could kill Newkirk right now, and then find a way to kill himself. Hogan shook his head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came to him. There was no way he could ever deliberately or knowingly kill Newkirk; not like this, not with his bare hands. It occurred to him at that moment how ironic it was he would be doing that very thing under the influence of some drug, and he was hit by a stab of fear and guilt.

Hogan sighed and went to rejoin Newkirk on the cot, trying to get the Englishman to rest and allow himself to recover as much as possible, aware that Newkirk would need whatever strength he could muster by the time Hochstetter returned later that evening. Towards midday they were each brought something to eat; a bowl of broth and a piece of stale brown bread. It wasn't much, but it was something. The guards even sent someone in to change out the bucket; which surprised them both. As afternoon slid into evening, Hogan began pacing the cell again; his anxiety and nervous energy growing in proportion to the nearness of Hochstetter's return.

"You keep that up, sir, you're goin' to wear yourself out," Newkirk remarked after a half hour of watching Hogan walk back and forth.

"That might be a good thing," Hogan muttered as he rounded the far corner.

Another ten minutes passed by; then twenty. "'Ere, sir, why don't you 'ave a seat?" Newkirk called out, "You must be done in by now."

Suddenly they heard footsteps coming down the hall, and exchanged glances. Hogan went over to the cot and sat down next to Newkirk, hoping it was just a couple of guards checking up on them; perhaps even bringing them something for dinner. When he saw who it was; however, he felt his gut lurch. _Hochstetter!_

The Gestapo Major gestured at one of the guards to open the door; then he entered – the two guards with him going in first. The guards kept their rifles trained on Hogan and Newkirk as Hochstetter walked up and stood in between them. He smiled and said, "You're looking much better, Hogan. And so are you, Corporal Newkirk. I think it's time to get started, Ja?"

Without waiting for a reply, Hochstetter motioned to the guards, who walked up and grabbed Hogan's arms, hauling him roughly to his feet. They handcuffed him and led him out of the cell; Hochstetter following.

Newkirk watched them leave; his gut twisting in a knot of fear. _Blimey, that's it, then, isn't it? When Hochstetter brings 'im back, I'm dead._

* * *

Hogan was taken back to the cell where he and Newkirk had initially been brought the previous day. In fact, the chair was still positioned in the middle of the room, and that was where the guards now led Hogan, pushing him into it, while leaving his arms handcuffed behind his back. Hochstetter took a stance in front of him and grinned.

"So, is there anything you'd like to tell me before we begin, Hogan? Something about your operation, perhaps?"

"Major, for the thousandth time, there is no operation! I'm just an American Colonel in a German POW camp; waiting out the war like all the rest of the prisoners."

"Tell me, Papa Bear, how do you get in and out of camp?" Hochstetter asked, as though he hadn't heard Hogan's response.

Hogan sighed in disgust. "Do you honestly think that if I could get out of camp, I would want to get back in? No, Major, I'd high-tail it back to the Allies, just so I could get in a plane, fly over here, and bomb your Headquarters!"

Hochstetter frowned. "You realize, of course, that if I drug you again, you will end up killing Corporal Newkirk. Is that what you want, Hogan?"

Hogan scowled in return. "What do _you_ think, Major?" he retorted, sarcastically.

"Then tell me what I want to know!" Hochstetter shouted.

"How can I tell you, when I don't even know what you're talking about!" Hogan yelled back.

Hochstetter, his face red with anger, stood there for a moment, attempting to reign in his temper. After a few deep breaths, he continued more calmly. "Hogan, what you said about the drug this morning… I gave it some thought, and I think you are right. It might be a good idea to 'give you a break', as you say."

Hogan immediately became suspicious. "Then, just what _are_ you planning to do to me?"

"Why, nothing, Hogan…nothing at all." Hochstetter smiled.

There was a knock on the door to the cell, and one of the guards went to open it. Zimmer walked in; looking around the room nervously. He spotted Hochstetter and went over to him.

"Ah, Zimmer," Hochstetter said. "Have you finished taking care of that little job I had for you?"

"Yes, Herr Major," Zimmer replied, not quite meeting Hochstetter's gaze.

Hogan's eyes narrowed; his suspicion growing. "I thought you said you weren't going to drug me."

"I'm not, Hogan," Hochstetter answered, "In fact, I'm going to take you back to the cell where your corporal is right now. Guards!" he shouted, stepping back to let the two men grab Hogan and pull him up from the chair. As they exited the cell, the major turned to the scientist. "You will join us, Herr Zimmer," he stated firmly; his tone making it clear it was not a request.

_Why is he bringing Zimmer? _Hogan wondered, and then a sinking feeling hit him in the stomach as a thought occurred to him; a terrible, horrible thought. _Dear God, I hope I'm wrong!_

When they arrived at the cell, there were two more guards standing outside it. Hogan peered in through the bars, looking in the direction of the cot. Newkirk was sitting there, just as he had left him. But he had an odd look on his face – a sort of fearful resolve – and his right sleeve was rolled up.

Hogan whirled on Hochstetter. "What did you do?" he thundered.

Hochstetter glanced at the guards. Two of them grabbed Hogan, while the other two raised their rifles, pointing them directly at the colonel. Hogan tried to yank himself from the guards' grasp, but he was no match for them; not with his hands bound behind his back. They dragged him roughly into the cell, one of the guards lowering his rifle to unlock the handcuffs around Hogan's wrists; then the two holding him gave him a shove, and all four guards exited the cell, the last one pulling the door closed and locking it.

Hogan stumbled forward; then caught himself. He rushed over to Newkirk, plopping down next to him, and gently lifted the Englishman's arm to take a closer look. There was no mistaking the needle mark, and Hogan had to fight to keep from storming up to the bars of the cell and pouring his wrath out at Hochstetter. "Newkirk, when did they do this to you?" he asked instead.

"Right after you left, sir," Newkirk answered, "That scientist, Zimmer, showed up with a couple of guards, and he injected me with somethin'." He pointed to Zimmer, who was standing next to Hochstetter, looking uncomfortable. "I tried to stop 'im, but he said if I didn't cooperate, he'd 'ave to give it to you, again. 'Sides, gov'nor, I'm not in the best of shape to put up much of a struggle."

"Oh, Newkirk," Hogan replied, his voice thick with worry. Suddenly he felt his rage bubble up, and knew he could no longer contain it. He leaped up from the cot, strode briskly over to the bars of the cell and reached up; grabbing two of them tightly while glaring out at Hochstetter. "What kind of monster are you?" he yelled, "Newkirk's in no condition to be drugged!"

"And you still haven't told me what I want to know!" Hochstetter shouted. "Perhaps next time I ask you questions, you will remember that _I_ am in control, here. I can do whatever I want to you – and to Newkirk!"

Hogan's expression darkened. "If I ever get out of here, I'm coming after you, and I'm gonna kill you!"

Hochstetter snorted. "Empty threats, Hogan. You must know that you'll never get out of here…alive."

Hogan stood there, seething, trying to come up with some colorful way of telling Hochstetter what he thought of him and his methods, when Newkirk piped up from the cot; "Say, Colonel, didn't you mention somethin' about bringin' some girls 'ere?"

Hogan turned around, looking at him with confusion. "What are you talking about, Newkirk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was a while ago, wasn't it? So, are the girls comin'? I 'ope you got some good lookin' birds."

Hogan swiveled his head to look at Zimmer. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.

Zimmer glanced nervously at Hochstetter, who nodded. "Well," the scientist said, "When the drug first takes effect, it makes the subject act as though he were drunk."

"Is that what I did?" Hogan asked, looking back at Newkirk.

"Yes, Hogan, that's what you did," Hochstetter answered, "And I must admit, it was mildly entertaining."

"Herr Major," Zimmer spoke up meekly, "If you no longer need my services, I would like to – "

"No, Zimmer, I would like you to stay for a while and watch with me," Hochstetter cut in, "I'll let you know when you can go home." He eyed the scientist curiously. "Surely you want to see how your drug affects the Englander."

"Oh, yes, Herr Major, of course!" Zimmer replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"I still don't see any birds," Newkirk called out.

Hogan walked over and sat down next to him. "Newkirk, there aren't any girls coming," he stated matter-of-factly.

"There aren't?" Newkirk pouted. "Wouldn't you know it? Stuck in this ruddy cage and no birds to pass the time with…" He trailed off as his face screwed up in pain. "Blimey, me 'ead's not feeling so good."

Hogan glanced quizzically over at Zimmer. "He's now about to enter the violent and delusional phase," Zimmer told him.

"You know, Hogan," Hochstetter said loudly, "I did you a favor tonight. Corporal Newkirk is in no condition to do much damage if he attacks you, and he will most likely survive the reaction to the drug. Think of it as a reprieve."

Hogan's gaze shifted to the Gestapo Major, his eyes shooting daggers at him.

"Ooh, bloody 'ell, I don't feel well at all," Newkirk murmured, reaching up and putting a hand to his head.

Hogan turned his attention back to his corporal. "It's all right, Newkirk, I'm here. I'll help you."

Newkirk looked up at him. "What? Who…who are you? What do you want from me?"

"Newkirk, it's me…Colonel Hogan."

Newkirk's eyes widened. "No, stay away! Don't you come near me! You, or your friends!" He shouted fearfully, glancing to either side of Hogan.

"Newkirk…" Hogan reached for him, but the Englishman shrunk away.

"No, I won't bloody let you 'urt me!" Newkirk tried to get up, but was stopped by the piercing pain in his left side. "What 'ave you done to me?" He glared accusingly at Hogan.

Hogan hesitated. He _was_ the one who had caused all those injuries, but he didn't think it was a good idea to reveal that fact to Newkirk in his present state of mind. "I haven't done anything to you," he finally replied, "I just want to help you."

"No, you want to kill me! All of you!" Newkirk scooted back against the wall, a terrified look in his eyes. "Get away! Leave me alone!" He started to hyperventilate; his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Hochstetter turned to Zimmer. "Why isn't he attacking Hogan?" he asked, confused.

Zimmer's eyes darted back and forth between Hochstetter's face, and a spot on the floor behind the Gestapo Major. "Well, you see, sir, the, uh, drug doesn't affect everyone the same way. Sometimes the subject will become paranoid, start hallucinating, seeing people that aren't there, believing they're after him, which generally leads to a state of panic – "

"Why wasn't that in the report?" Hochstetter angrily cut him off.

"Uh, well, you know how the Gestapo likes results, Herr Major, and we _were_ discovering some promising effects with XN-5…" His voice trailed off and he stared at the floor.

Hochstetter, eager to turn his attention back to his prisoners, glared at Zimmer for a moment; then said, "Very well, you may leave, now."

"Thank you, Herr Major!" Zimmer exclaimed gratefully.

"But, I expect a full report in the morning on what this drug actually does, understand?" Hochstetter growled.

"Yes, sir, I will have it for you first thing in the morning!" And with that, Zimmer turned and headed quickly for the exit.

Hochstetter shook his head in disgust; then went back to watching Hogan, who was having little success calming the Englishman down.

"Newkirk, you need to relax; slow your breathing," Hogan was saying, reaching for him once again.

"No…it's a trick…stay away from me!" Newkirk stammered, gasping for air. Hogan grabbed his arm, but he twisted free; yelping as a sharp stab of pain shot through his side. He jerked his left shoulder the other way, and cried out this time when the tenuous scab on the knife wound broke open, causing fresh blood to soak through the bandage and ooze onto his already stained shirt.

Hogan was beside himself; trying to help, but only making it worse. He saw the growing wetness on the front of Newkirk's shirt, saw his face turning an alarming shade of white, and, reacting on instinct, grabbed Newkirk and forced him to lie down on his back on the cot. Newkirk stared up at him, wide-eyed with terror, struggling to breathe. Hogan held him down firmly by his arms and said calmly, "I'm not gonna hurt you; I'm trying to help you. Tell you what; you slow down your breathing, and I'll let you go."

Newkirk worked his mouth for a moment, as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. He panted shallowly for a bit longer; then his eyes glazed over, his lids closed, and he passed out.

"Newkirk?" Hogan said quietly, shaking him gently. When he got no response, he shook him a little harder. "Newkirk?" he repeated, his voice louder this time.

"It looks like your Englishman is unconscious," Hochstetter called out from the hallway. "Pity…it was just becoming interesting."

Hogan felt his rage surfacing again, but his primary concern at the moment was Newkirk. He watched the Englishman for a few minutes, relieved to see that he had begun to breathe more normally. His color was returning, also, and the circle of wetness on his shirt had stopped growing. As soon as Hogan was sure Newkirk was all right, he stood up and walked over to the bars. "I don't know what you were trying to accomplish, _Major_, but it didn't work," he said angrily.

Hochstetter shrugged. "You can't win them all…can you, Hogan?" He smirked when he saw the fury intensify on Hogan's face. Then he turned to leave, but before he'd taken more than two steps, he looked back and said, "Tomorrow evening it will be your turn again, Hogan. And this time the Englander will be handcuffed –unless, of course, you have something to tell me. Think about that." Then he left; chuckling loudly as he walked away.

* * *

A/N: I would like to thank Deana for the suggestions she gave me for this chapter.


	12. The Best Laid Plans of Hogan's Men

**Chapter 12**

Zimmer, only too happy to be leaving for the evening at last, walked briskly out of Gestapo Headquarters, allowing himself to relax only after he had reached his car. As he unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat, he let out a sigh. He hated working for the Gestapo; he always felt like he was walking a tightrope with them – they yelled and threatened him when he had no results to show them, and they yelled and threatened him when he did. Nothing he did seemed to satisfy them, and he was tired of living in fear. He also hated what he was being forced to do to some of the prisoners with the drug he'd developed; it wasn't in his nature to carry out experiments on live people. But, he wasn't too keen on experiencing what the Gestapo would do to him if he didn't comply, and in the end, his self-preservation won out.

He started up his car and put it in gear. Then he pulled out of the parking spot and headed home; unaware of the car that swung in behind him as he turned onto the street.

The drive to his home took about ten minutes. So preoccupied were his thoughts, that he didn't notice the other car following him. When he arrived home, he parked his car and, as he got out, saw a car stop immediately behind his and three men quickly emerge; all of them wearing plain, nondescript civilian clothes.

The first man walked up and asked politely, "Heinrich Zimmer?"

"Ja, I am Heinrich Zimmer. What do you want?"

The other two men had come over by now, and all three of them suddenly rushed Zimmer; grabbing him and dragging him to their car. Zimmer was caught off-guard; by the time he realized what was happening and tried to put up a struggle, he was already being shoved into the back seat. Two of the abductors got in with him – one on each side – and the other man climbed into the driver's seat. The driver put the car in gear, backed away from Zimmer's car, and sped off into the night.

* * *

"What's taking them so long?" LeBeau exclaimed irritably as he paced in front of the table where Kinch sat, monitoring the radio. "They should have been here by now!"

"Well, maybe that scientist fella had to work late," Carter, who was leaning against the side of the table, suggested.

"Oui, but, this late?" LeBeau stopped pacing and looked at his watch. "We have roll call in half an hour!"

"Do not worry, mon ami," Dubois said from his seat on the bench near the wall, "They will be here."

"But, what if they were caught?" LeBeau asked worriedly.

"I do not think so," Dubois replied reassuringly, "These men; I have worked with them many times. They know how to be careful."

Just then they heard a commotion coming from the direction of the emergency exit, and they all tensed. Four men appeared; one of them blindfolded, being pulled along by the others – obviously against his will – and Dubois immediately smiled and walked over to them. "Philippe, Jacques, Antoine, you made it!" He exclaimed, greeting them warmly, "And I see you brought the man we've been waiting for."

Jacques grinned. "He was no trouble at all."

The men from the French Underground guided Zimmer into the main tunnel area, removed his blindfold and let him go. Kinch had risen from his seat, and now he walked around to the other side of the table. "So, you're Heinrich Zimmer?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Zimmer glanced around furtively, "Wha…where am I? Who are you?"

Kinch smiled. "You're in a prisoner of war camp, and we're the prisoners."

"I…I am?" Zimmer gazed at the tunnel around him in disbelief. Then he looked back at Kinch. "Why did you bring me here? What do you want with me?"

"You are the one who made that drug; the one Major Hochstetter gave to Colonel Hogan!" LeBeau shouted angrily.

"Is…is that what this is about?" Zimmer stammered. He glanced at the faces before him, wide-eyed with confusion. "How do you know about my drug? And how do you know it has been given to Colonel Hogan?"

LeBeau looked like he was about to leap over and strangle the scientist, but he stopped himself when he saw Kinch hold up his hand.

"Well, you see, Zimmer," Kinch began, and went on to tell him what had happened a few nights ago, after Hochstetter's visit. Zimmer visibly paled; realizing the Gestapo Major must have stolen some of his drug from the lab before he left that night.

"I had no idea…Major Hochstetter had no right to do that!" he exclaimed, indignantly.

LeBeau scowled. "Don't you keep a count of how much of your drug you have in your lab?"

"Yes, of course!" Zimmer paused. "I mean, we do take inventory every week…" His voice trailed off upon seeing the looks he was getting. "Well, we certainly didn't think we needed to worry about Gestapo agents stealing from us!" he huffed.

"So, how _did_ Hochstetter get a hold of that stuff, anyway?" Carter asked.

"Major Hochstetter brought General Burkhalter by that night, to find out more about the drug," Zimmer told them. "I tried to tell them that it doesn't yet produce the results they are looking for, but the Major wanted to use it, anyway. General Burkhalter told him no, and they left. That's when Major Hochstetter must have stolen it."

"That explains how Hochstetter was able to drug the colonel without Burkhalter knowing," Kinch stated.

"Has Hochstetter used the drug on the Colonel any more at Gestapo Headquarters?" Carter asked quietly.

Zimmer slowly nodded; then let out a sigh. He told them about having to drug Hogan the night before, and then being forced to give it to Newkirk. When he mentioned the condition the Englishman was in and his reaction to the drug, Carter gasped.

"We have to get them out of there, before Newkirk gets hurt any worse!" he exclaimed worriedly.

"We will, Andrew," Kinch replied calmly, "But first, I need to know, Zimmer, is Hochstetter planning to drug either of them tomorrow?"

Zimmer swallowed hard. "Yes; in fact, Hochstetter told me before I gave the drug to Corporal Newkirk, he plans to drug your colonel again tomorrow evening, and put him in with the English corporal. Only this time, Corporal Newkirk will be handcuffed."

"Mon Dieu! Le Colonel will kill him!" LeBeau shouted.

"I think that's the idea," Kinch murmured.

The trap door suddenly opened, and Olsen called down, "It's almost time for roll call!"

Dubois, who had been listening quietly so far to the conversation, now spoke up. "You had better go up there," he said, glancing at Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau, "My men and I will watch Zimmer while you are at roll call."

Kinch smiled. "Thanks. It shouldn't take long. Klink hasn't been in much of a talking mood today."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed, "And when we get back, we can go over the plan." He walked over to the ladder and climbed up; Carter and Kinch following right behind him.

Dubois looked at Zimmer and motioned to the bench by the wall. "Why don't you have a seat?" he suggested; then leaned against the desk, facing the scientist, and said, "Now, I want you to tell me the exact layout of Gestapo Headquarters – where your office is, where the cells are, which one they are keeping Colonel Hogan and Newkirk in – everything."

* * *

Hogan sat on the floor near the cot, leaning against the wall, listening for signs that Newkirk might be waking up. It had been several hours since Hochstetter left, and the Englishman hadn't budged. Every so often Hogan checked on him, making sure Newkirk was breathing okay and his color was still good; which, thankfully, they were. It looked like the corporal was just sleeping, and Hogan found himself hoping Newkirk would stay that way for a while; it was probably the best thing for him. Besides, he didn't want Newkirk to wake up while still under the influence of the drug; there was no telling how the man would react.

Another half hour went by, and still no change. Hogan felt himself becoming drowsy, his head beginning to dip, his eyelids closing momentarily; then snapping open. He wondered briefly if it would hurt anything if he just napped for a few minutes, and before he knew it, he was out.

Sometime later, Hogan jerked himself awake. He thought he'd heard moaning, and as he sat there listening, he heard it again. He scrambled to his feet and moved quickly over to the cot, sitting down quietly on the edge of it. He saw that Newkirk still had his eyes closed, but the Englishman had a frown on his face, and was mumbling softly. _He must be dreaming_, Hogan thought. Then, when Newkirk moaned again, he corrected himself; _looks more like he's having a nightmare._

* * *

"_Newkirk…Newkirk…where are you?"_

"_Someplace you'll never find me!"_

"_Newkirk…there you are! I have something for you…"_

"_No! Stay away from me!"_

"_Don't you want to know what it is?"_

"_No! You're just goin' to try to kill me!"_

"_I don't have to try…I know I can kill you. Now, if you hold still, this will be much easier…"_

"_No! Get your bloody 'ands off me!"_

"_Now, Newkirk, you're only making this harder for yourself…"_

"_No! I don't want to die! Leave me alone! Let go! Let go!"_

"Newkirk, wake up," Hogan said for the third time, holding him by his arms and shaking him gently.

"No! Let go!" Newkirk shouted, attempting to twist out of Hogan's grasp. His eyes flew open, and he stared up at the colonel in terror while doubling his efforts to break free; wincing at the pain he was causing himself. "No, please, don't kill me! I don't want to die!"

"Newkirk, I'm not gonna kill you!" Hogan shouted back as he held onto the corporal firmly. "You were just having a nightmare. You need to calm down – just relax, take nice slow breaths…" He was growing concerned that Newkirk would start hyperventilating again.

Newkirk blinked up at him, his expression changing to confusion. At last he stilled under Hogan's strong grip. "Colonel?" he muttered quietly.

Hogan breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Yes, Newkirk, it's me, Colonel Hogan."

"What…what happened?"

Hogan let go of Newkirk's arms and leaned back. "You were drugged," he told him matter-of-factly.

Newkirk's brow furrowed. "I was?" he replied, looking even more confused.

Hogan nodded. "Yeah. I guess Hochstetter wanted to find out what it would do to you."

Newkirk could hear the bitter hatred in Hogan's voice; his utter contempt for the Gestapo Major. His eyes widened slightly and he asked worriedly, "I didn't attack you, did I, gov'nor?"

Hogan placed a reassuring hand on Newkirk's shoulder. "No, you didn't," he replied. Then he frowned and asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Hmm, I remember Hochstetter taking you away, and then that ruddy scientist showed up, and…Blimey! Yes, I remember now, gov'nor, 'im givin' me a shot of somethin'…then you came back, didn't you? And then…then I woke up 'ere, on this cot." He looked at Hogan curiously. "So, what 'appened, Colonel? What did I do?"

Hogan let out a sigh; then proceeded to fill Newkirk in on what happened after he'd returned to the cell, and how the Englishman had reacted under the influence of the drug. Newkirk seemed a bit surprised, until Hogan told him what Zimmer had said; that not everyone reacts the same way to the drug.

"Well, at least now I know why me shoulder's so sore," Newkirk said when Hogan had finished. He reached up and set his hand lightly on the wound there.

Hogan eyed him with concern. "Maybe you should let me take a look at that."

Newkirk shook his head slightly. "No, that's all right, sir. I doubt you could do much, anyway." He turned his head toward the inside of the cell and let out a groan. "Me stomach's feelin' a mite poorly; though, Colonel. You think you could 'elp me over to the bucket?"

"I can do better than that," Hogan said, getting up from the edge of the cot and walking over to the bucket. He picked it up and brought it back to where Newkirk lay, and set it down next to the cot. "Now you won't have to get up."

Newkirk smiled at him gratefully. He attempted to roll over onto his side, but the effort was too much for him alone. Hogan reached over to help, being as careful as he could, but no matter how gentle he tried to be, he could still see how much pain it was causing Newkirk. At last he got the Englishman onto his right side, and Newkirk promptly leaned over the edge of the cot and threw up.

It was agony for him; the force of the action sending sharp shooting daggers of pain along the area around his cracked ribs. When he was finished, Hogan helped him roll onto his back, and he just lay there for a few minutes; catching his breath and willing the ache on his left side to go away – or at least, lessen to a more bearable level. When it had subsided at last, Newkirk looked up at Hogan, who had once again taken a seat on the edge of the cot, and, with a smile that was actually more of a grimace, commented, "What was that you were sayin' about us bein' quite the pair?"

Hogan flashed him a lopsided grin. "We do seem to be in a bit of a mess, old chap, don't we?" he answered in his best imitation of a British accent.

"Please, sir…I'm tryin' not to get sick again," Newkirk replied; then smiled at him for real this time. Before Hogan could come back with a quip of his own, he added, "So, what 'ave we got to look forward to, tonight, Colonel? What's ol' Hochstetter plannin' for us?"

Hogan wasn't about to tell Newkirk what Hochstetter had said to him. Instead, he replied, "I don't know, Newkirk; your guess is as good as mine."

Newkirk squinted at him; he knew Hogan was lying, but he decided to let it go. "I don't suppose you 'ave any good news to tell me?"

Hogan thought for a moment. "Your face looks better," he said, trying to sound convincing. Actually, Newkirk's left cheek was a huge, swollen, colorful mess, but telling him that wasn't going to cheer him up.

Newkirk, of course, could see right through him. "Nice try, gov'nor," he smirked. Anythin' else?"

"We're still alive," Hogan said quietly.

Newkirk nodded slightly. "That we are, sir; but, for 'ow long?"

Hogan had no answer for him.

* * *

Kinch had been right; roll call didn't last very long – just long enough for Klink to cast a silent gaze over the line of prisoners, and then summarily dismiss them. As soon as they returned to the barracks, Carter and LeBeau were ready to head back down to the tunnel, but Kinch made them wait until after Schultz came by to announce lights out.

After Schultz left, Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau scrambled below. The three men from the French Underground had just left, and Dubois was watching the scientist. Kinch was first to speak up. Looking at Dubois, he asked, "Did you get the information from Zimmer?"

"Oui," Dubois answered, "I know where everything is located in the building, and Zimmer even filled me in on the properties of the drug. I'm sure I can do it."

"Just what are you planning to do?" Zimmer asked curiously.

LeBeau stepped closer, and began to explain. "When you don't show up for work tomorrow," he said to Zimmer; then motioned to Dubois, "Monsieur _Boucher_, here, will arrive at Gestapo Headquarters, posing as a colleague of yours. He will tell Hochstetter that he received a call to report there, and that he is familiar with the drug you developed. When the time comes to give the drug to Colonel Hogan, Monsieur _Boucher_ will have replaced it with something completely harmless." (1)

Zimmer looked at Dubois. "Where are you going to find something harmless to inject Colonel Hogan with?" he asked him.

"Our medic, Sergeant Wilson," Kinch cut in. "He's going to give something to Dubois to take with him. Dubois will switch it with the real drug before anyone can give it to the colonel."

Zimmer looked skeptical. "Do you really think this plan of yours will work?"

"But, of course!" Dubois answered confidently. "If Colonel Hogan's men think it will work, then so do I."

Zimmer's eyes suddenly widened. "I just thought of something…if you are replacing me at Gestapo Headquarters, then, where will I be?" he asked nervously.

"By this time tomorrow night, you will be on your way to London," Kinch informed him. "They're interested in the drug you developed."

"They are?" Zimmer said, surprised. He sat there, contemplating for a few moments. "They're not going to make me test it on people, are they?" he asked at last.

Kinch smiled. "No, they won't. They're not like the Gestapo."

Zimmer returned his smile. "Then I am looking forward to it." He paused for another moment; then said, "I_ am_ curious about one thing. Even if you succeed in keeping your Colonel from being drugged again, how are you going to get him and the corporal away from Hochstetter?"

"Oh, we've already got that part figured out," LeBeau replied enthusiastically, "Don't you worry; we will get them out of there."

"If you say so," Zimmer responded, wondering who was crazier; these men with their impossible plans, or himself; realizing that he actually believed them.

* * *

A/N: The cover name I chose for Dubois is actually the name of a different character the same actor played in the episode, _Reverend Kommandant Klink - _Claude Boucher_. _I just couldn't resist. :)


	13. A Fool and His Prisoners are soon Parted

A/N: Sorry it took me a little longer to post this chapter; real life has been keeping me busy lately. Now that things have calmed down for a bit, I hope to get back on my usual schedule.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

The next morning brought a change in the weather; gray and overcast, thick clouds filling the sky. A strong, cold wind periodically gusted through, and the air smelled of rain.

Hochstetter didn't seem to mind, though. As he arrived at work, he found himself in the best of moods. He was convinced that Hogan would break by the end of the day, tell him what he'd known all along, rather than risk killing his corporal. Of course, even if Hogan didn't confess, even if he allowed himself to be drugged and ended up doing Newkirk in, it would only slow down the inevitable. Hochstetter would just pull another one of Hogan's men out of camp and have him take Newkirk's place. He was convinced Hogan wouldn't allow himself to continue killing his men, and would eventually confess.

He entered his office and took a seat at his desk; a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. _I've got you now, Hogan, and you know it. _He picked up the stack of papers on his desk and began rifling through them. _Now, where is that report_? _It better be here, or Zimmer's going to be in a lot of trouble! _He went through the papers twice, but there was no report. Frowning, he picked up the phone and called the lab. After several rings, one of Zimmer's assistants finally answered, and informed him that the scientist hadn't shown up yet. Hochstetter hung up the phone and scowled; his mood slipping several notches.

* * *

After morning roll call, Kinch climbed down to the tunnel, where Dubois was still keeping watch over Zimmer. The scientist was curled up on the bench; sound asleep. Kinch told Dubois to go lie down on one of the cots in the back of the tunnel for a while and get some sleep, since he wouldn't be leaving for Gestapo Headquarters until afternoon. Then he moved over to the switchboard, and dialed the number to General Burkhalter's office. The secretary answered, and after he explained the urgency of his call to her, she put him through. He waited a few moments; then heard the unmistakable voice of the general, himself.

"_This is General Burkhalter."_

"General Burkhalter," Kinch said in German, disguising his voice, "This is one of Herr Zimmer's assistants; he is the scientist who developed the new drug, XN -5."

"_Yes, I remember him."_

"Herr General, I thought you should know that Major Hochstetter is using that new drug on one of his prisoners…Colonel Hogan."

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then Burkhalter responded just as Kinch thought he would. _"What?"_

"It's true, Herr General!" Kinch exclaimed, a smirk on his face. "Herr Zimmer told me you hadn't given the major permission to use it on Colonel Hogan; that is why I am calling."

"_Why isn't Zimmer calling me about this himself?"_

"Herr General, he has disappeared! He didn't show up for work, and he is not at his home…we don't know _where_ he is!"

Another pause. _"Very well, I will investigate this matter at once!"_

"Thank you, Herr General! Oh, I see Major Hochstetter coming; I must go!" Kinch hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, a big smile on his face.

* * *

An hour later, Major Hochstetter was still sitting in his office, catching up on paperwork, when the phone rang. "Major Hochstetter speaking," he said after picking it up, visibly wincing when he heard General Burkhalter on the other end.

"_Hochstetter! What is this I hear about you drugging Colonel Hogan?"_

"General! How did you find out…I mean, what are you talking about?"

"_Don't lie to me, Major! You've been using that XN-5 on Hogan; and after I told you not to!"_

"Bu…but General," Hochstetter stammered, "I am getting very good results. I am sure Hogan will be ready to confess tonight."

"_Is that so? Very well, Major, I will be there tonight, to see for myself. You will wait until I arrive before you do anything. Understood?"_

"Understood, Herr General." Hochstetter slammed down the phone, cursing under his breath. _How did Burkhalter find out?_ His eyes widened as the answer hit him; _Zimmer! _He picked up the phone and dialed the lab, but when the assistant answered, all he could tell the Major was that Zimmer still hadn't shown up. What was left of Hochstetter's good mood quickly disappeared.

* * *

Hogan and Newkirk were sitting on the cot when the guards arrived with their breakfast. Hogan had helped the Englishman to a sitting position earlier that morning, after Newkirk's stomach had finally calmed down. Their breakfast consisted of a thin porridge and a glass of water, and – despite the unappetizing selection – they both ate; their hunger overruling their disgust.

When they were finished, Hogan got up and stretched. Then he looked at Newkirk and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right, sir," Newkirk answered, "It doesn't 'urt so much anymore when I breathe."

"That's good to hear," Hogan replied, flashing him a small grin.

"What about you, Colonel? 'Ow are you feelin'?"

"Pretty good, actually," Hogan admitted.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Newkirk said, "Hochstetter's plannin' to drug you tonight; isn't he, gov'nor?"

Hogan let out a sigh. "Yes, he is."

Newkirk's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know I won't be able to defend meself."

Hogan nodded. "Yes, I know."

Newkirk scrutinized him for a few moments. "Why don't you just take me out right now, Colonel? Hochstetter won't need to drug you, then."

Hogan gasped. "Newkirk! I could never do that! Why would you even suggest – "

"Because, sir," Newkirk cut him off, "Hochstetter wouldn't 'ave a reason to try to get information from you. Maybe he'd realize the drug doesn't work, and send you back to Stalag 13."

Hogan shook his head. "That wouldn't stop Hochstetter, and you know it."

"Maybe, maybe not," Newkirk muttered.

Hogan looked at him for a moment. "Have you thought about what Hochstetter's going to do if you die?" he said at last.

Newkirk looked mildly surprised. "Well, I…I just figured he'd send you back to camp."

"No," Hogan replied, "He'll probably grab someone else from there – maybe Carter, or LeBeau – and start this up all over again. He's going to keep at it until I confess…"

Newkirk's eyes popped wide. "Blimey! You're right, gov'nor! He's just mean enough to do it, too!"

Hogan nodded. "Yes, he is." He stepped over to the cot and sat down. Turning his head to look at Newkirk, he said, "Well, I guess for now, we'll just have to wait and see what happens."

"I guess you're right, sir," Newkirk replied.

Hogan flashed him a reassuring smile, but, inside, he'd already decided; if he did end up killing Newkirk tonight, he would find a way to take his own life.

* * *

It was nearing three o'clock in the afternoon when Dubois arrived at Gestapo Headquarters and entered the building. He'd snuck out the emergency exit earlier and met up with one of the Underground agents at a pre-arranged site, who then drove him into town and dropped him off. Now, as he was standing patiently at the front desk, waiting while his papers were being scrutinized, it suddenly hit him how dangerous this was going to be. As the Gestapo Lieutenant handed him back his papers, seemingly satisfied of their authenticity, Dubois inwardly sighed with relief. He'd cleared the first hurdle.

Dubois headed for the stairwell and climbed up to the second floor, where Hochstetter's office was. He walked up to the door, took a big breath, and knocked loudly. When he heard someone growl, "Come in," he opened the door and entered.

"Major Hochstetter?" Dubois asked, looking at the man behind the desk, quickly masking his surprise. Hochstetter didn't look nearly as intimidating as he'd expected.

"Yes, I am Major Hochstetter," the man replied in a gravelly voice, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Dubois cleared his throat. "My name is Boucher. I am a colleague of Herr Zimmer's. I received a call this morning, and was told that Zimmer would not be in today, and they needed someone to replace him. They said it was very important."

"What?" Hochstetter jumped to his feet. "My office made no such call! Who told you Zimmer would be out today?"

"They did not say, exactly," Dubois answered, "Only that it was by a general's order that I take his place."

_Burkhalter! What is he up to? _Hochstetter squinted at Dubois suspiciously. "Tell me, what do you know of the drug Zimmer developed?"

"XN-5? I know all about it." Dubois leaned in slightly. "As a matter of fact, I helped him develop it."

"I see." Hochstetter reached up and stroked his chin briefly as he thought it over; then dropped his hand and held it out. "Let me see your papers."

Dubois handed them over. Hochstetter studied them closely; then he handed them back to Dubois. "They appear to be in order. You say you worked with Zimmer on the drug?"

"Oui, Major. But then, Zimmer was sent here to continue his research, and I was sent to Gestapo Headquarters in Berlin. That is why I have only just arrived."

Hochstetter nodded. "Very well, Monsieur Boucher, I will have one of the guards show you where Zimmer's lab is. I will need you this evening; there is a prisoner here, who I have been testing the drug on. He is due for another injection tonight. Do you understand?"

Dubois flashed him a knowing smile. "Perfectly, Major."

"Good," Hochstetter replied, smiling in return. He began to usher Dubois toward the door, when the Frenchman turned to him.

"Major, would it be possible for me to see the prisoner in question? Just a brief examination; I'm sure you understand."

Hochstetter eyed him coolly. "Oh, I'm afraid not, Monsieur Boucher. You will see him when it is time for you to administer the drug."

"Very well, Major," Dubois answered, nodding politely.

Hochstetter escorted him out to the hall, and flagged down one of the guards. "Show this man to Zimmer's lab," he ordered the guard; then he dropped his voice and whispered to him, "And make sure he stays there." He turned and looked at Dubois, gesturing for him to come over. "This guard will take you to the lab."

Dubois smiled. "Thank you, Major."

Hochstetter nodded. "You're welcome."

As soon as they were gone, Hochstetter headed back into his office, and was about to call Gestapo Headquarters in Berlin to verify Boucher's story, when his phone rang. He picked it up, and was surprised to find the call was coming from Berlin Headquarters, wanting to know if Monsieur Boucher had arrived safely. Hochstetter informed them that he had, and took the opportunity to inquire further about Boucher. As he finished the call, he could only conclude Boucher was for real. He had to be, to be working under the direct supervision of one General Kinchmeyer.

* * *

Dubois was taken to the lab, where he quickly explained to the two assistants there that he was filling in for Zimmer. They nodded and, without a word, scuttled off to work on whatever assignments they'd been given for the day. Dubois peeked out the door, and saw the guard who had brought him here standing watch. _So much for visiting Colonel Hogan and Newkirk_, he thought, disappointed. _I will have to let Le Colonel know what is going on when I 'drug' him later._

Several hours passed, and just before Burkhalter was due to arrive, Major Hochstetter had Hogan removed from the cell he was sharing with Newkirk, and placed in the one where he had been drugged the first time. Then he ordered the guards to escort Boucher to the cell Hogan was occupying and tell the Frenchman to bring a dose of the drug with him, but not to give it to Hogan until he was told.

When Dubois entered the cell, he immediately noticed Hogan sitting in the middle of the room, tied to a chair. Hogan glanced at him; his eyes flashing with recognition, which he quickly masked. "You're not Zimmer," he said in a mildly curious tone.

"I am Monsieur Boucher," Dubois stated matter-of-factly. "I am covering for Herr Zimmer today. You must be Colonel Hogan."

"Yeah, that's me." Hogan raised an eyebrow. "I take it you're here to drug me."

"Yes, I am," Dubois answered, "But first, I would like to examine you." He turned to the guard that was standing near the door. "If I could have some privacy, please?"

"Major Hochstetter told me to stay in here," the guard answered.

"Well, Major Hochstetter told _me_ to examine this prisoner," Dubois stated firmly, "And I prefer to do that in private." His expression softened and he added, "Please, it will only take a few minutes."

The guard wavered; then he replied, "All right, you have two minutes. I will wait right outside the door." He opened the cell door and stepped out, closing and locking it behind him.

As soon as the guard had left, Hogan broke into a huge grin. "Dubois!" he whispered loudly, "Boy, am I glad to see you!"

"And I, you, Colonel!" Dubois answered, smiling at him; then immediately got down to business. "We haven't much time, so just listen. General Burkhalter is on his way, and he will be watching what the drug does to you, along with Major Hochstetter."

"Burkhalter?" Hogan cut in, "How did he find out?" Dubois opened his mouth to reply, but Hogan stopped him. "Never mind, continue."

Dubois nodded. "You must convince the general that the drug doesn't work the way Hochstetter claims. I brought something with me to give you; Wilson said it is completely harmless; saline solution, or something. Anyway, after I give it to you, you must act drunk, as you did before. But, when it comes time for you to react violently, you will pretend to pass out, instead."

Hogan thought furiously for a moment. "If we convince Burkhalter that the drug doesn't work, how do we explain Newkirk's condition?"

"We need to convince Burkhalter that Hochstetter is responsible for Newkirk's injuries."

A light bulb began to go off in Hogan's head. "I think I see where you're going with this. Have you told Newkirk yet?"

Dubois shook his head. "No, Colonel, and I won't be able to. By the time they come for you, Burkhalter will already be there, and I can't afford to be seen by him."

"You're right…he'd recognize you right away."

"Oui," Dubois replied, nodding. "So, when you get into the cell, you must find a way to let Newkirk know, so he will play along."

Hogan nodded slowly. "I'll think of something."

Dubois smiled. "I know you will."

Just then the door opened, and the guard came back in. "All finished?" he asked.

Dubois looked at him and smiled. "Oui, all finished."

A short time later, Hochstetter appeared. He directed 'Monsieur Boucher' to give Hogan the drug, which Dubois did. Then he dismissed Boucher, who left the cell and hurried out of the building; just in time to avoid Burkhalter, who showed up at Gestapo Headquarters within minutes after Dubois had left.

* * *

Newkirk, meanwhile, was watching the guards bring several chairs out to the hallway and set them up in front of the cell. _"Hochstetter's makin' a right bloody show of it, ain't he? _he thought angrily. The longer he waited for them to bring Hogan back, the madder he got. _One o' these days, that ruddy major's goin' to get what's comin' to 'im. Just wish I could be the one to do it!_

About twenty minutes or so later, Major Hochstetter appeared, accompanied by General Burkhalter, and Colonel Hogan, who was handcuffed and being pulled along by two guards; one on either side of him. Two more guards brought up the rear, and when the procession reached the cell, the guards opened the door and led Hogan inside. One of them unlocked the cuffs; then he walked over to Newkirk and, together with another guard, hauled the Englishman to his feet, pulled his arms behind his back, and slapped the cuffs on his wrists. Newkirk's face filled with pain, but he stubbornly refused to cry out.

After the guards left the cell, Hochstetter and Burkhalter took a seat. "Now you will see, Herr General," Hochstetter told him, "How useful this drug is." He looked at Hogan and said, "This is your last chance, Colonel Hogan. Tell me about your operation, and I will remove Corporal Newkirk before the drug takes effect."

Hogan sighed. "Major, for the last time, I have nothing to tell you. I'm just a prisoner of war."

"I'm afraid I don't see the usefulness of the drug yet, Major," Burkhalter stated.

"You will, Herr General; just wait until you see what happens to Hogan. He may not confess now, but after he kills Newkirk, I'm sure he will."

Burkhalter frowned. "Major, I am not convinced that pitting Allied prisoners against each other is such a reliable method."

"Then I am sure this demonstration will change your mind, Herr General." Hochstetter replied enthusiastically.

"Hey!" Hogan suddenly shouted, "Where's the party?"

"Ah, here we go," Hochstetter commented. "They always act drunk at first, and then become violent."

Hogan glanced at Hochstetter; then looked over at Burkhalter. "Looks like you've been at the party too long already!"

"Hogan!" Burkhalter snapped, "You had better watch what you say!"

"He can't help himself, Herr General," Hochstetter said, "The drug makes him act that way."

"That doesn't mean I have to sit here and be insulted!" Burkhalter shouted.

"Yes, Herr General," Hochstetter mumbled.

Hogan turned around and saw Newkirk standing over by the cot. "Newkirk!" he exclaimed happily, "You're always here when I need you!" He walked over and threw his arm around him.

Newkirk's fear, which had been growing since the guards had handcuffed him, now began to overwhelm him. At least without the cuffs, he could attempt to defend himself. This way, as soon as Hogan became violent, the colonel would just beat him to death.

Hogan saw the terror in Newkirk's eyes. He stumbled slightly, and had to reach over and grab Newkirk's other shoulder to keep from falling. For a brief moment he was practically embracing the corporal and, with his mouth next to Newkirk's ear, he breathed, "Dubois was here…follow my lead."

Newkirk's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly recovered, making it look like Hogan had just surprised him. Hogan let go and took a step back. "Oh, sorry about that, Newkirk; I can't seem to keep my balance after what that French guy gave me."

"'French guy'?" Burkhalter repeated.

Before Hochstetter could explain, Hogan piped up, "Yeah, that Frenchman who gave me a shot of something. Boy, I'm feeling no pain, that's for sure! Just like when that other guy, Zimmer, gave me this stuff." Hogan paused and put a hand to his head. "Sure does make me sleepy, though." Then he looked at Hochstetter and said, "Hey, this stuff's gonna make me pass out again, just like last time, isn't it?" He stumbled again and caught himself, glancing at Newkirk and winking at him.

"Yeah, I don't know why you keep givin' the colonel that stuff, anyway," Newkirk added, "All it does is put 'im to sleep."

"What?" Hochstetter exclaimed, "You know it makes him violent! He's beaten you up twice now!"

"Aw, c'mon, Major, you know I could never hurt Newkirk, here!" Hogan moved over to him and clapped him gently on the back. "You just wait 'til I'm sleeping, and then _you_ have him beat up." Hogan suddenly became angry. "You better not do that to my pal, here, again!" He stepped away from Newkirk and went to sit on the cot. "Boy, am I tired! I think I'll lie down for a few minutes…" he mumbled. Then he stretched out on the cot, closed his eyes, and he was out.

Burkhalter stood up and turned to Hochstetter. ""Major, what is going on, here? I don't know what you were trying to prove, but you certainly haven't!"

"Herr General!" Hochstetter sprang to his feet, "This isn't how the drug works! The last two times I gave it to Hogan, he became violent and beat up Newkirk! You can clearly see the corporal is injured – "

"You could have done that yourself," Burkhalter replied, annoyed. "And what about this Frenchman giving Hogan the drug? Where is Zimmer?"

"Herr General, Monsieur Boucher is a colleague of Zimmer's. He was filling in for him today."

"Where is he? I want to talk to him."

Hochstetter turned to one of the guards. "Find Boucher and bring him here at once!"

"You know, General," Newkirk piped up from the cell, "Hochstetter gave that ruddy drug to the colonel the night you were at camp, 'avin' drinks with 'im."

"I did not!" Hochstetter shouted defiantly.

"Yes you did, Major," Newkirk replied, "The colonel even told the Kommandant, but he didn't believe 'im. That was your plan to get the colonel 'ere all along, wasn't it? Get 'im to insult General Burkhalter, so the general would let you bring 'im in for questionin'."

Hochstetter was seething by now. "You are lying! You are going to pay for that, Corporal!"

Burkhalter contemplated for a moment. "That would explain Hogan's rude behavior the other night. He has never acted like that before."

The guard that had been sent to find Boucher returned just then. "Major, we looked everywhere…Boucher is gone!"

"He has to be here somewhere!" Hochstetter yelled, "Find him!"

Burkhalter turned to Hochstetter. "Major, that's enough! You have crossed the line, this time! I do not appreciate being made a fool of!"

"But…Herr General…"

"Scientists that go missing…drugs that don't work… questionable behavior on your part…I will not stand for it anymore!" Burkhalter thundered. "You will return Colonel Hogan and Corporal Newkirk to Stalag 13 immediately, and then you will discontinue using XN-5, and have it destroyed; it has caused nothing but trouble! Do you understand, Major?"

"Herr General, surely you don't believe…"

"Yes, I do!" Burkhalter yelled: then he pointed at Newkirk. "You will also have those handcuffs removed from Corporal Newkirk at once; he seems to be the only one here who is telling the truth!" He leaned in toward Hochstetter, and in a low, threatening voice, added, "Oh, and one more thing, Major; you will not lay another hand on him. If I see one more mark on either of these men when they are returned to the stalag, you will be in far worse trouble than you are now. Do I make myself clear?"

Hochstetter gritted his teeth. "Yes, Herr General," he growled.

"Good!" Burkhalter glared at him for a moment longer; then he turned and left.

Hochstetter stood there, his face beet red. He glanced at the guards menacingly, who hurried into the cell and removed Newkirk's handcuffs. When they exited the cell, they took one look at Hochstetter's face, and rushed away to get the transportation set up to return Hogan and Newkirk to Stalag 13.

Hochstetter glared into the cell for a few more moments. Then he raised his fist, and shook it at the American Colonel. "You are responsible for this, Hogan, I know it!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, "I don't know how you did it, but I will find out someday…mark my words!" He turned and stomped angrily down the hall, cursing all the way.

When he'd gone, Hogan peeked up at Newkirk and, with a smirk on his face, quipped, "Was it something I said?"


	14. What Goes Around, Comes Around

A/N: Once again this took a little longer than I'd planned; sorry about that. Thank you so much for all your kind reviews! This will be it for awhile from me; we're moving in two weeks (again!) But this is the last time. And who knows? If I come up with something short, I may post it in the interim. :)

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Within half an hour, Hogan and Newkirk found themselves on a truck, heading back to Stalag 13. Hochstetter had apparently decided to get rid of them as soon as possible, which was – of course – fine by them. The Gestapo Major didn't visit them again, but as they were being led out of the building, they both thought they could hear the faint sound of yelling coming from the second floor.

Newkirk had some trouble getting to the truck; every step sending a painful jolt through his cracked ribs. But the guards, who were in no hurry to return to work, let him take it slow. Hogan, who had 'miraculously' regained consciousness by then, held onto Newkirk; letting the corporal lean on him to help ease the pain. Climbing up into the back of the truck was the worst part, but with Hogan's help, Newkirk managed without too much agony. Once the truck had cleared Gestapo Headquarters and began to head towards camp, Hogan and Newkirk both breathed a sigh of relief.

The compound was quiet as the truck pulled in and stopped near Klink's office. The two guards who had ridden in the back with the prisoners jumped out first, followed by Hogan, who turned to help Newkirk. By the time everyone had exited the vehicle, they all heard the unmistakable voice of Sergeant Schultz as he ran over.

"Colonel Hogan! Newkirk! You are back!" He shouted breathlessly as he caught up to them.

"Yes, we are," Hogan replied, grinning at him.

"And we couldn't be 'appier about it." Newkirk smiled briefly; then his face screwed up in pain.

"Newkirk, you look terrible!" Schultz exclaimed, getting a good look at his face, and the dried blood on his shirt. He glanced at Hogan and, seeing the fat lip he was sporting, added, "You don't look so good yourself, Colonel Hogan."

"We've had a rough couple of days," Hogan muttered. "Schultz, I need to take Newkirk to the infirmary," he said, holding onto the Englishman's arm.

Schultz shook his head. "Nein; Colonel Klink wants to see you in his office right away."

"Aw, c'mon, Schultz; he's hurt, and in pain. He needs to lie down."

Schultz wavered. "Well, the Kommandant _did_ say to bring you, Colonel Hogan, to his office. He didn't say anything about Newkirk – "

"Well, there you go," Hogan cut in. He flashed Schultz his best puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

"Oh, all right," Schultz replied, "But, _I_ will take Newkirk to the infirmary. You will go to the Kommandant's office."

Hogan smiled. "Fair enough, Schultz." As he let go of Newkirk's arm, Schultz stepped up and took his place; then began to lead the corporal to the infirmary. Before they had gotten very far, Hogan called out, "And tell Sergeant Wilson he has a patient, would you, Schultz?"

"Jawohl, Colonel Hogan, I will tell him." Schultz called back.

Knowing Newkirk was in good hands, Hogan turned and headed for Klink's office. When he got to the inner door, he rapped twice. He waited this time until he heard Klink say, "Come in," before opening the door and entering. Before he could say a word, Klink popped up from behind his desk where he'd been sitting, and gestured to the chair that sat in front of the desk, facing it.

"Colonel Hogan!" Klink exclaimed, "Please, have a seat. I'm sure you must be exhausted."

"Thank you, Kommandant," Hogan said, plopping down on the chair, "I am pretty tired, actually."

Klink quickly scanned the room; then walked over and glanced at the outer office. "Where is Corporal Newkirk?" he asked anxiously.

"Schultz took him to the infirmary," Hogan answered, wondering why Klink was acting so concerned. "He's got quite a few injuries."

"Fine, fine," Klink muttered, coming over to stand in front of Hogan. He leaned back against his desk and looked at the American Colonel for a moment, as though trying to decide what to say. At last he shifted uncomfortably and said, "Colonel Hogan, I want to apologize for not believing you, when you told me what Hochstetter did. I should have known that you wouldn't make up a story like that."

Hogan's mouth nearly fell open. "Is that why you wanted to see me, sir? To apologize?"

"I am not an ogre, Hogan!" Klink replied defensively. "I had no desire to see you hauled away by Major Hochstetter." Just mentioning the Gestapo major produced a frown on Klink's face. "I suppose I thought…well, I didn't think even he would be so low as to drug a man without his knowledge. Apparently I was mistaken."

Hogan stared at Klink for a moment, unsure what surprised him more; Klink apologizing to him, or the fact that the Kommandant actually seemed sincere. He found his voice at last, and said, "Well, I appreciate that, sir. Thank you." He paused for a moment as a thought hit him. "Burkhalter called, didn't he?"

Klink sighed. "Yes, he did, Hogan, and he was furious with me for not believing you."

Hogan smiled slightly. "So, then I guess that means next time, you'll believe me?"

Klink scowled. "There had better not be a next time!" he exclaimed.

Hogan nodded. "I have to agree with you, there." He stood up and looked at Klink impatiently. "Is that all, sir?"

"Yes, Hogan, you may go," Klink dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Oh, and Hogan?"

Hogan, who was halfway out the door, turned to look back at him. "Yes, sir?"

Klink opened his mouth as if he were about to say something. His mouth hung open for several seconds; then his expression changed and he uttered, "Never mind."

Hogan nodded at him slightly; then turned and left. Klink may not have said it, but Hogan had clearly read on his face what he'd been trying to say – _I'm sorry._

* * *

As soon as Hogan hit the porch outside Klink's office, he climbed down the steps and hurried across the compound, making a beeline for the barracks. When he got to the door he opened it; in time to see his men exiting his quarters – they'd no doubt been listening to his conversation with Klink. They rushed over and began talking at once.

"Colonel! Boy, are we glad to see you!"

"Sir, what happened to your lip?"

"Mon Colonel, you are back! Can I get you anything?"

Several other men throughout the barracks joined in, and Hogan finally held up his hand. "All right fellas, settle down!" he shouted.

The men quieted, and Hogan took a deep breath. He looked at the expectant faces in front of him, and smiled. "It's good to see you guys, too."

"How is Newkirk, sir?" Kinch asked quietly.

"He'll be okay. He's got a couple of cracked ribs, some bruises here and there, he'll need some new stitches…" Hogan paused, his gut tightening at the thought that he was the one who had caused all those injuries. Sometimes he wished he could remember doing it, but other times he was glad he couldn't. He still didn't know how he was going to make this up to him, or even if he could. "Anyway, Wilson should be with him by now," he finished.

"So, when can we go see him, Colonel?" Carter asked.

LeBeau nodded. "Oui, I would like to see him, too."

Hogan smiled. "I think we should let him get some rest tonight. You can all see him in the morning, after roll call."

Carter's face fell. "Not 'til morning?"

"The colonel is right," LeBeau said, although he sounded as disappointed as Carter. "Pierre needs his rest." Then his eyes lit up and he looked back at Hogan. "I almost forgot! Colonel, there is someone in the tunnel who wants to say hello."

"That's right, sir," Kinch said, "Dubois got back here about a half-hour ago. He brought his men with him; they're going to take Zimmer out to rendezvous with the sub."

Suddenly they heard a slight banging noise coming from the tunnel entrance. Hogan walked over and opened the false-bottom bunk, and Dubois climbed up. "Colonel Hogan, it's good to see you are back!" he exclaimed as he stepped into the barracks.

"Thanks to you, Dubois," he replied, smiling wide.

"Oh, do not thank me, Colonel; your men came up with the plan. I merely followed their instructions. The only reason one of them did not go was because they would have been recognized by Major Hochstetter."

Hogan nodded. "Yes, they would have." He glanced at the three men who had orchestrated the whole plot and said, "Good thinking, fellas." He paused. "And thanks, for getting us out of there," he added, his expression full of meaning.

Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau just nodded; their own faces filled with emotion.

Hogan turned back to Dubois. "You, too."

"Glad to do it, Colonel. Now, if you will excuse me, my men are waiting for me down below."

They all said their goodbyes quickly, and Dubois left. After he'd gone, the men started asking questions, wanting to know exactly what happened at Gestapo Headquarters. Hogan filled them in as best he could, swallowing hard a few times when he told them what he'd done to Newkirk. Even though he, as well as the rest of the men, knew he'd been under the influence of the drug, Hogan still felt guilty.

* * *

Morning roll call couldn't go fast enough. Carter fidgeted, and LeBeau kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Kinch, at least, was outwardly remaining calm; although he, too, was eager to see how Newkirk was doing. Hogan, of course, kept his cool, but even he was silently urging Klink to hurry up.

Finally Klink arrived and, perhaps because he was still feeling guilty about his own part in what had happened, merely took the report from Schultz, and then dismissed the prisoners. Hogan immediately headed for the infirmary; Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau on his heels.

When they got there, Hogan entered quietly, not wanting to wake Newkirk if he was sleeping. He noticed right away that the Englishman was sitting up in bed, and he flung the door open and walked over to him. "Newkirk, glad to see you're awake," he said, smiling at him.

Newkirk grinned. "There you are, Colonel. I was wonderin' when you'd be stoppin' by." He grin widened when he saw Kinch, Carter and LeBeau appear next to his bed. "'Bout time you blokes showed up! Thought I'd die of ruddy boredom in 'ere."

The three men tried not to gasp when they saw Newkirk. His left cheek was bruised and swollen, and had a cut on it that was scabbed over. His shirt was off; exposing a bandage that was wrapped tightly around his ribs, and the knife wound on his shoulder was bandaged, also. He had several colorful bruises on his abdomen, and the marks on his throat were still visible, but those, at least, had faded.

Carter was the first to speak up. "Hey, glad you're back, Newkirk! How you feeling, buddy?"

"Better," Newkirk replied. "Wilson didn't need to re-stitch me shoulder wound, since it's already startin' to heal on its own."

"That's great, Peter," Kinch smiled, "I remember when he stitched it before – "

"Don't remind me!" Newkirk exclaimed.

The men chuckled. Then LeBeau said, "Don't worry about your meals, mon ami, I will prepare them and bring them all to you while you are in here."

Newkirk's eyes widened. "Blimey, Louis, are you tryin' to speed up me recovery, or slow it down?"

More chuckles came from the men. Wilson arrived just then, having stopped in his barracks after roll call to pick up a few things. "Well, I thought I'd find you all here," he said as he walked to the back of the room and set down the items he'd brought with him on a table next to the wall. Then he picked up a small bottle and walked back over to Newkirk. He shook two pills out of the bottle, and handed them to the corporal. "Here, time for some more aspirin," he said, and, picking up the glass of water that was on the small table next to the bed, handed that to Newkirk, too.

Newkirk tossed the pills into his mouth, and gulped down the water. Then he leaned back and looked at his friends quizzically. "So, 'ow did you manage to get us out of Gestapo Headquarters, anyway?"

While Kinch, Carter and LeBeau explained it to Newkirk, Hogan quietly slipped away and went to talk to Wilson, who had returned to the table in the back of the room and was busy putting things away. "So, how is he?" he asked the medic.

"Newkirk? He'll be fine. He's going to have to stay in here for a few days, at least. A week would be better, though."

"Well, why don't you keep him in here a week, then?"

Wilson turned his head to look at Hogan. "Sir, you know how Newkirk is. He's only been in here since last night, and he's already getting restless. I might be able to keep him here three days, but beyond that, I'd have to tie him to the bed to make him stay."

"I can order him to stay," Hogan said with a straight face, "I _am_ a Colonel, after all."

Wilson smiled. "Why, yes you are, and a darned good one, too, sir."

Hogan smirked at him.

Wilson glanced over at Newkirk; then back to Hogan. "I don't think you'll need to do that, sir. If he's doing well after three days, he should be all right to go back to the barracks. Just make sure you don't let him do too much…make him rest a lot."

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "_Make_ him rest? Are you serious?"

"Welcome to my world," Wilson mumbled. Then he cleared his throat and said, "Well, if he doesn't, then you can threaten to send him back here. That should do the trick."

Hogan nodded and clapped the medic on the shoulder. "Thanks, Wilson."

"Anytime, Colonel," Wilson replied, "That's what I'm here for." Hogan dropped his hand and headed back over to Newkirk, while Wilson turned back to his organizing.

The men were laughing and joking around as Hogan walked up, and he inwardly smiled; yes, it was good to be back. He hated to break it up, but he wanted to talk to Newkirk privately. "LeBeau, shouldn't you get breakfast started?"

"Oh! Oui, Colonel...you and Newkirk must be starving!"

Hogan turned to his radioman. "Kinch, didn't you say London was going to contact us this morning to let us know Zimmer made it to the sub?"

"Yes, sir, I'll get right on it."

The two men began to head for the door. Hogan looked at Carter and said, "Why don't you go gather up all the explosives from the tunnels? I don't think we'll need to use them, after all."

"Well, sir, I was hoping to stay and talk to Newkirk some more…" Carter saw the look in Hogan's eyes. "Yes, sir," he muttered; then turned and followed the other two men out of the infirmary.

Hogan pulled up a chair and sat down. "So, how are you _really_ doing, Newkirk?" he began.

"Oh, I'm all right, Colonel, really. The pain's gone down quite a bit. Still hurts a bit if I take a big breath, but – "

"That's good to hear," Hogan cut in, "But I was thinking more about, well, how you're feeling around me." He reached over and grabbed Newkirk's forearm, dismayed to see him flinch slightly; his eyes momentarily flash with apprehension.

Newkirk blinked, and it was gone. He looked at Hogan and said, "Colonel, I can't say that I won't be a bit jumpy around you for a while, but I'm not afraid of you anymore, if that's what you're worried about."

Hogan let go of his arm, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He let out a sigh and said, "You never should have had to be afraid of me in the first place. Newkirk, I _am_ sorry for putting you through this." Newkirk opened his mouth to reply, but Hogan held up his hand. "Let me finish. I know I was drugged, I know I wasn't aware of what I was doing – heck, I can't even remember doing it. But the simple truth is, drugged or not, it was still me hurting you, and for that, I apologize."

Newkirk stared at Hogan for a moment. He wanted to tell him that he didn't blame him. He wanted to tell him that he shouldn't blame himself; it wasn't his fault. But mostly, he wanted to tell him that he still trusted him with his life; more, now, than ever. Instead, he smiled at him and said what he knew Hogan was waiting to hear. "Apology accepted, gov'nor."

Hogan returned his smile. He patted his arm and stood up. "Well, I better let you get some rest, Newkirk." He started to head for the door, when Newkirk stopped him.

"Sir, could you send Andrew back in 'ere, soon? With a deck o' me cards? I'm feelin' a mite restless…"

Hogan inwardly rolled his eyes. Yep, this was going to be a long week.

* * *

Three weeks later, life had returned to normal – or, what passed for normal, anyway – at Stalag 13. Newkirk had healed up surprisingly fast, and was finally being allowed to go out on short missions, much to the relief of all the prisoners in Barracks Two. He still had a slight mark visible on his cheek, but it was fading, and he had a permanent scar on his shoulder. But the bruises were gone, his ribs had mended; even his jumpiness around Hogan had completely disappeared.

On this particular evening, Burkhalter was in camp, visiting with Klink. He'd been invited for dinner, and the job of cooking that dinner had naturally fallen to LeBeau. The Frenchman grumbled, but his pride wouldn't allow him to prepare anything less than perfect, so he worked diligently in the kitchen while Klink and Burkhalter sat in the parlor, enjoying a few drinks.

Suddenly LeBeau realized he was missing the rosemary he needed for the lamb chops. He searched the kitchen, but there was none to be found. He knew he had some in his own personal collection, so he told Schultz he needed to go back to the barracks. After informing Klink, Schultz escorted LeBeau to Barracks Two so he could retrieve the rosemary.

Just as they got to the door, a car drove into camp, pulled up behind Burkhalter's car and stopped. It was a Gestapo car, and the man who exited from the back seat, none other than Major Hochstetter. The major tossed a glance towards Barracks Two; then stomped off to Klink's quarters.

LeBeau rushed inside. Newkirk and Carter were playing cards at the table, and Hogan was in the process of refilling his coffee cup. "Hochstetter's here!" he shouted at them, his eyes wide.

Newkirk and Carter dropped their cards. "Blimey, what's he doin' 'ere?" Newkirk asked; his voice not quite steady.

"Could be that bridge we blew up last night," Carter suggested.

"Shh, quiet!" LeBeau hissed, "Schultz is right outside the door!"

"Carter's right, though," Hogan said, "That's probably why he's here." He frowned at LeBeau. "What are you doing here? I thought you were making dinner for Klink and Burkhalter?"

"I am, Colonel. The kitchen didn't have any rosemary, so I came here to get some from my locker."

Hogan nodded. "All right, go ahead and get what you need, then I want you to go back to the kitchen and finish preparing dinner."

"Oui, Colonel," LeBeau replied. He hurried over to his locker and dug through it until he found the rosemary. Something else caught his attention, and he grabbed that, too, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he headed for the door.

"Oh, and LeBeau," Hogan said just as the Frenchman was about to leave, "Keep your ears open."

LeBeau nodded. "Oui, mon Colonel." Then he left.

Hogan glanced at Carter, who got up to watch the door. The sergeant saw Schultz leading LeBeau back to Klink's quarters, and glanced at Hogan. "You think one of us should go over there, too, sir?"

Hogan shook his head. "No, it would be too suspicious. Don't worry, LeBeau will be fine. Besides, he'll be in the kitchen; Hochstetter probably won't even notice he's there."

About an hour and a half later, Carter, who was still at the door, saw someone coming quickly towards the barracks, and realized it was LeBeau. He opened the door wide to let the Frenchman in. Hogan was sitting at the table across from Newkirk, and looked up at him expectantly.

"Well, what did you find out?" Hogan asked.

"Carter was right," LeBeau replied, catching his breath, "Hochstetter was blaming you for the bridge."

"Bloody 'ell, Colonel, that man's never goin' to leave us alone!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"Mon Colonel, there is something else – "

LeBeau was interrupted by a ruckus coming from Klink's quarters. Hogan got up and hurried to the door. He opened it wide and looked across the compound, his eyes widening in shock.

Klink, Burkhalter and Hochstetter were all standing outside the building. Hochstetter had his hands cuffed behind his back, and there were two guards on each side of him, gripping his arms tightly. The Gestapo Major was screaming threats and obscenities at Burkhalter, who was yelling back at the major while pressing a cloth to his cheek. They could make out a few words here and there;

"…You dare strike a General!"

"…Going to kill you!"

"…On the next train to the Russian Front!"

By now, Hogan's men had crowded around the door behind Hogan, and were watching the spectacle; their mouths hanging open. As Hochstetter was being manhandled to his car and shoved in the back seat, LeBeau tapped Hogan on the arm and held a small, clear, empty bag out to him.

Hogan took it and looked at it curiously. His jaw dropped when he saw the label on the bag; XN-5. He looked at LeBeau, who had a sheepish expression on his face.

"Dubois brought that back from the lab," LeBeau explained. "He gave it to me, and I put it in my locker for safekeeping. I forgot about it until I found it in there when I was looking for my rosemary."

"LeBeau, you didn't…" Hogan said when he'd found his voice.

LeBeau nodded. "I slipped it into Hochstetter's drink. I figured he deserved a taste of his own medicine."

They heard more yelling, and turned to see Burkhalter getting in his car and leaving. Klink stood staring after him for a moment, and even from this distance, Hogan could have sworn he could see a look of absolute bewilderment on the Kommandant's face. Then Klink turned and headed back into his quarters.

The men moved away from the door, and Hogan closed it. He looked at the Frenchman and said sternly, "LeBeau, if you ever do something like that again…"

"Yes, sir?" LeBeau replied meekly.

"You come get me, first," Hogan finished, grinning at him.

LeBeau smiled. "Oui, Colonel, I will."

"Well, that ought to keep Hochstetter out of our hair for a while," Newkirk piped up.

Hogan nodded. "And you know what I think?" he said.

"What?" Newkirk replied.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy."

THE END


End file.
